


The Land of Faygo and Misfits

by viksherenqueer



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Cancer, Child Abuse, Drug Abuse, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, Gamzee Makara and Karkat Vantas Moirallegiance, Homestuck AU, Humanstuck, Mentions of Cancer, Mentions of Suicide, Multi, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Rape/Non-con References, Recreational Drug Use, Suicide, goddamn armada, partystuck, ravestuck, too many fucking ships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-14
Updated: 2013-10-21
Packaged: 2017-12-11 19:33:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 37,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/802377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viksherenqueer/pseuds/viksherenqueer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes you wonder if there's more to life. You party, you pay taxes, you die. There's also the possibility of getting laid. Yeah, that's pretty much all there is to life. You think.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kanayagoddessofsass](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kanayagoddessofsass/gifts), [krazieLeylines](https://archiveofourown.org/users/krazieLeylines/gifts).



> i can't really say this is just another partystuck au, because i want this to be so much more.  
> also, there's some errors with the tenses in this chapter. i originally started writing this in 3rd person and switched it to 2nd about 2,000 words in or so and i had to go back and change everything. so yeah, there shouldn't be tense errors in the future. i'll try to keep those to a minimum.

**Dave:**

You let out a sigh, cracking an eye open and instantly regretting it. You curl in on yourself, feeling as if weights were tied to your limbs, slowing you down and giving you a feeling like your blood was filled with concrete. You were going to live your life here, you decide. In this bathtub. You’d live off the endless supply of _Red, White, and Blue_ brand beer bottles. You would learn to eat glass and you would drink water from the tap. You could raise a bottle army, and they could fight against the dreaded _Keystone Light_ cans. The sound of the door being pushed open forced your eyes into a slit, bottles skidding across the floor as they were shoved out of the way with a sort of clacking sound that sent throbs throughout your skull. 

"Lil' man," Bro started as he inspected the damage. His little brother, with a beer stained shirt and only one shoe was curled up in the bathtub like it was a damn security blanket. "Monday, you got school. I'm not dealing with that psycho bitch at the PTA either, so you have to get your ass there."

"Take my ass off, throw it there, I'll stay here." You mutter, flexing your toes, then your feet, and legs. After a sigh, crawling your way out of the tub and to the bathroom counter, you grip the edge and bite back the bile rising in your throat. "Time?"

"Almost six." Bro informed you, tapping his foot. "I'm gonna whip you up a fuckin' aspirin-coffee-let's-get-rid-o'-this-god-damn-hangover combo. Don't fall and bash your head in, or I'll drag yer ass straight from the hospital to the roof."

“Like hell you would,” You murmur as your brother rolls his eyes and disappears from sight. You sigh loudly, gripping the edge of the cold countertop and yank yourself to your feet with a groan, swaying a bit as your hand cups the side of your head. You mumble a few curses under your breath, sour nothings for no one’s ears but your own. You sniffle a bit, nose turning up at the smell of piss and cigarettes. You cough, dry heaving for a couple of nightmarish minutes before taking a deep breath. Clean up, you told yourself as you reach your hands up and gripped the cold knobs of the cabinet, swinging them both open at once.

You were met with a set of cold, blueberry eyes staring past your sideways shades and into your soul. They approach your face, your foreheads touching tenderly, like some cliche movie drama. Heart skipping a beat or two, you let out a high pitched scream and tumble backwards, throwing the puppet off of yourself and staring after it. You watch it silently, gasping for breath before growling quietly. Angry at Bro, you start to yell, but a pain shoots through your skull and you decide against it, wincing and burying your face in your hands. You take a couple deep breaths, before palming your eye sockets and standing up carefully. You give a glance to Lil Cal and freeze. Well fuck, the little shit’s hand ended up in the toilet. Bro is going to whip your ass like he’s putting together a goddamn cake. “Shit, shit, shit.” You start as you crawl over the puppet, picking it up by the foot. You are sure the damn thing is staring you down but you ignore the feeling and toss it into the bathtub. You have no plan, and you’re too hungover to come up with one, so you simply close the shower curtain and scurry out of the bathroom. 

You’d clean up later, you decide as you kick off your other shoe and rid yourself of your clothes, ducking into your bedroom. Sweats and a tank, no boxers. Let it all hang free for the moment being, you decide as you throw some clothes into a basket. You have to put some shit through the drier before you think about going anywhere. No time to properly wash anything. You grab the basket with one hand and headed for the door, and through the living room. You carefully avoid smuppet piles as you go, being handed a cup of ‘aspirin-coffee-let's-get-rid-o'- this-god-damn-hangover combo’. You take a sip, ignoring the slight taste of medicine and what you think is _Pepto Bismol_ , and downed half of it as you tap your foot in the elevator.

You finally get off, heading down the hall. The carpet felt rough under your bare feet, the ugly blue and gold pattern becoming all too familiar. That’s what happened when you lived your entire life in the highest apartment this damn building had to offer. Bro was loaded, and reasons unknown to you, still decided this shit hole was worthy of wasting money on. You had no say, and simply had to deal. You pry the door open to the room where a small laundry mat was located. It seemed empty enough, except for the sound of one washing machine beeping, as a signal of its finish.

That’s when you first saw her. She had to be new, considering you knew everyone and she had never crossed your line of sight before. She was a tiny thing, maybe a bit over five feet and short, black hair that spiked about and framed her face. Red glasses with little twists at the edges and a grin that would put a fucking clown to shame. Her skin color was creamy, and idly made you wonder why people thought Asians were yellow. You shrug the question off, observing her. 

You pursed his lips, ducking off to the side and dumping your stuff into the drier. Glancing back up to her, deeming she’d be about your age most likely. She hadn’t seemed to notice you yet, and you swallow. She was an A plus hottie and you looked like something you found in a cat’s litter box. You comb your fingers through your hair and decide you would not breathe on her. You should’ve brushed your teeth when you had the chance. And you would’ve, if that damn puppet hadn’t had you flying off the handle. Slowly you make your way over to her as she worked, leaning against the wall. She still didn’t seem to notice you yet. “Hey.”

She jumped, looking up at the other teen with a confused expression before blinking and turning her head back to the laundry basket on top of the drier. She continued moving the clothes from the washing machine, damp and darkened looking, into the drier. You were sure you had spotted some panties, but said nothing. “Hi there. It’s rude to startle a lady.” She said, grinning. If her statement was as sarcastic as her voice made it seem, then you was in the clear.

“Didn’t mean to,” you state as she shut the the drier door. You were about to add, ‘Don’t know how you didn’t fucking see me,’ when you noticed her feeling up the front of the control panel. You watch for a long moment, brows knitting together in confusion as her fingers found the light braille. Braille? Braille, OH. “You’re blind.” You state, sounding a tad dumbfounded.

She barked a loud laugh, her free hand moving to cover her mouth. It was an obnoxious sound, to say the least, smug. “No shit Sherlock!” She muttered, having heard this time and time again. She was sure she could tattoo the words ‘Can’t fucking see’ on her forehead and people would still be surprised whenever they found out she was blind. “Would you like an award for figuring that one out, buddy?”

“Shit,” you start as you rub the back of your neck nervously. “I didn’t mean to like, offend you or some dumb bullshit. I just didn’t realize.” You point out, pulling your weight away from the wall as she yanked her basket off the machine. 

“No one ever does.” It was nonchalant, like she had heard all of this time and time before. “But, if you’re still interested in talking to me,” she grinned in your direction, or at least what she thought was your direction, “you could escort the crippled lady back to her room.” She said in a mocking damsel in distress tone, basically cooing at you. She was mocking and sarcastic, and you were totally digging it.

“Fuck yeah, may I have your hand my lady?” You joke, bowing to her and putting a hand out.

She turned a bit, having been facing the wall more than you and arched a brow. “Fuck no, I’m a lady, not a whore. You gotta work for hand touching, maybe after that you can get some shoulder action.”

“Damn, gotta climb the whole ladder, do I?” You joked, as they exited into the hall together and you bump her shoulder with yours as you turned, showing her which direction they were going. “Soon you’re gonna have me hoppin’ through hoops like I’m in a fucking dog show.”

“Don’t worry.” She turned towards you, brows quirking together. “I’ll only feed you the finest of dog treats, and I’ll groom you twice a day.”

“Walkies?”

“I’ll pay someone to do that. I’d end up getting us hit by a car.” She cackled, and it sent a shiver down your spine. She was weird. She was weird and Asian and hot and blind. And that all lead to one thing, and one thing alone.

Really weird sex.

And you were hooked, tilting your head and smirking at her. These thoughts were easily fueled by your dick, instead of your brain. She was thin, pointy joints and small breasts, and little to no butt. But you like that, for some reason you couldn’t explain. Maybe it was the whole Asian schoolgirl feel, but they soon entered the elevator and you decide you can contemplate how to get into her pants later. “So do you go to school?” You ask, wanting to change the subject. 

“No, I’m a dropout. I spend my days robbing dollar stores and stealing candy from babies.” She rolled her eyes, looking to you (can she even look at people you don’t know). “Yes I go to school. The one down the way, don’t ever remember the name. Starts with a letter I think.” She grins, giggling as she runs her thumb under the smooth rimming on the underside of the handle attached to the basket. 

“Well, I was wondering if maybe you’d like a ride to this close-by mystery school that starts with a letter or some shit.” You start, bumping your sides gently. “I have a car, pretty sure it can make it to the school with no name pretty easily.”

“If you’re trying to be cool,” she turns to you, lowering her glasses. “You’re sucking at it. But you sound cute. So sure, what time are you leaving?”

“Normally about seven. School doesn’t start until about seven-thirty-ish.” You chuckle, rolling your eyes. “And shut up, I am the king of cool. You can’t fucking surpass Strider’s on the cool lever. It’s like, in our blood.”

“Strider, huh?” She grins and glances to you. “Well Strider, got yourself a first name? And don’t be making any snappy remarks, I’m simply speaking in a way you can easily understand. Questions with obvious answers.”

“Ha ha ha, princess.” You start, “Dave. Dave Strider. And what should I call you?”

“It’s Terri.” She tilted her head back to turn her eyes in the direction of the air above your head. “Pyrope. Terri Pyrope. So Mr. Strider, show me to my room so I can get ready, would ya?” She grinned. It was fun standing in the hall and all, but she needed to get ready. She wasn’t allowed to bring Pyralsprite with her, so it was going to be a rough day. 

“Oh, of course.” You laugh and help her along, dropping her off at her place with a wave. You nearly got tackled by an eager dog at the door, the blind girl giving him several ‘down boy!’s before he finally obeyed. You got a brief explanation of, ‘seeing eye dog’ and a door closed in your face. 

You stood there a moment, taking a deep breath and heading back to your room. You laze around the apartment, sipping apple juice and cleaning up. You throw Lil Cal under the bathroom counter, take a shower and manage to trip on a beer bottle on the way out, earning a nasty bruise on your elbow from the blow it takes on the floor. You plop down on the futon, plenty of time left over and yank your phone out and log into good ol’ Pesterchum.

\--carcinoGeneticist [ CG ] started pestering turntechGodhead [  TG ]--  
CG: IF YOU FORGOT MY PEANUT BUTTER SANDWICH, I WILL DO A FUCKING OFF THE WALL BACK FLIP FROM THE LUNCH BENCH, AND DEFENESTRATE YOUR ASS INTO THE NEXT DIMENSION WHILE PISSING MYSELF UNTIL I DROWN.  
TG: sounds like a fun time  
TG: getting every freakazoid in the school with a watersports fetish to pop a boner while my ass goes flying  
TG: nah man its in my bookbag calm your tits  
CG: BET YOUR SWEET ASS MY TITS WILL CALM THEMSELVES. I DO NOT FUCKING JOKE AROUND ABOUT MY PEANUT BUTTER SANDWICHES.  
TG: you give half of them to gavin the guy himself is a fucking joke  
CG: HEY.  
CG: I DON’T BITCH ABOUT YOUR BEST FRIEND CHOICES.  
TG: yes you do  
TG: all the fucking time man  
TG: “JOHN FUCKING SHIT HIMSELF OR SOMETHING EXCEPT HE DIDNT AND THIS IS SOME DUMB METAPHOR THAT NOBODY ACTUALLY READS BESIDES DAVE WHO LAUGHS AT EVERYTHING I SAY UNTIL HE DIES OF SOME ANEURYSM OR SOMETHING”  
CG: THAT IS NOT HOW I TALK.  
CG: OKAY IT IS BUT THAT’S NOT THE FUCKING POINT.  
CG: GAVIN IS A HOPELESS ASSHOLE WHO NEEDS SOMEONE TO MAKE SURE HE EATS SEVERAL MEALS A DAY AND DOESN’T MESS HIS PANTS BECAUSE HE DOESN’T HAVE THE MENTAL CAPACITY TO DO IT HIMSELF.  
TG: so youre his baby sitter  
CG: PRETTY MUCH. EXCEPT I CAN’T CHARGE OUTRAGEOUS PRICES.  
TG: you get paid in friendship  
CG: IS THAT A JOKE?  
TG: well at least he touches your willy  
CG: LET’S NOT HAVE THIS CONVERSATION WHILE I’M WAITING FOR THE BUS. YOU ARE RUINING MY GODDAMN INNOCENCE DAVE. YOU ARE GOING TO TURN ME INTO A  
CG: AUGH  
CG: KARTER WHISPERS INTO THE NOTHINGNESS OF THE UNIVERSE.  
CG: “HIPSTER TOOL.”  
TG: why are we friends i swear to god  
TG: dude dude dude i forgot to tell you  
TG: blind asian chick  
CG: DAVE. HOW MANY FUCKING TIMES HAVE WE GONE OVER THIS?  
CG: I DO *NOT* WANT TO HEAR ABOUT YOUR LATE NIGHT PORN ADVENTURES. THAT IS TIME FOR YOU AND YOUR FORESKIN TO GET A TAD TOO COMFORTABLE WITH EACHOTHER, THEN YOU BEAT IT SENSELESS. IT DOES NOT INVOLVE ME.  
TG: would you shut the fuck up for ten seconds  
TG: a blind asian chick moved in downstairs  
CG: I DO NOT WANT TO KNOW THE PLOT OF THE PORNO.  
TG: SHUT THE FUCK UP HOLY SHIT  
TG: karter man i am talking about real life  
TG: downstairs to my own fucking apartment  
TG: a smoking hot  
TG: teenage  
TG: blind asian chick  
TG: moved in  
TG: and i got to talk to her this morning  
TG: and shes the best fucking thing ok shes straight up hilarious as shit  
TG: and she agreed to let me drive her to school today  
TG: and ive come to one conclusion  
CG: AND WHAT WOULD THAT BE?  
TG: i want to tap that  
CG: WHAT A HOPELESS ROMANTIC YOU ARE.  
TG: fuck ok its like  
TG: time to go get her  
TG: and to make sure she doesnt fall over herself and die before i can get into her pants  
CG: I SWEAR TO GOD, ALL THOSE MOVIES I’VE MADE YOU WATCH HAVE GONE TO SHIT.  
CG: YOU LEARNED NOTHING.  
TG: hahaha  
TG: at least with my movies you learn important shit  
CG: YOUR FAVORITE MOVIE IS FINDING FUCKING NEMO.  
TG: and you learn that you better keep a better fucking eye on your kids or some ginger bitch is going to fuck their shit up and youre going to meet some ditz voice acted by a lesbian  
TG: sounds like a good lesson  
CG: YOU CAN LEAVE NOW.  
TG: okay baby cakes ily dont miss me too much  
CG: OH I WILL TRY NOT TO. IT’S OH SO HARD TO MANAGE HALF AN HOUR WITHOUT YOU DAVE.  
CG: SUCK MY DICK.  
\--carcinoGeneticist [CG] has ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG]--  
TG: sure what are friends for  
\--turntechGodhead [TG] has ceased pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG]--

Staring at your phone for another long moment, you finally tuck the small device away and chuckle with a shake of the head. Karter was one of your best friends, your bro, and morning conversations with him always brightened the day.

But seriously, dissing Finding Nemo? Not fucking cool. You shake your head and sigh, before grabbing your bag and heading downstairs. After changing, right in the laundry room, and throwing the rest of your shit into your sylladex, you heave a heavy sigh and make your way to Terri’s door. You give a few knocks, hearing some stumbling around, the bark of a dog, before the door opened and a girl, older than Terri but not by much blinked several times. She was similar in the face, except with square glasses and a mess of bright blonde hair and red streaks.

“Uh, hey there blondie, can this rad girl get to helping a bro out with something?” She arched a brow in confusion, before her sister pushed her out of the way.

“Lulu, stop. You’re gonna scare him away!” Terri rolled her eyes and pulled Lulu out of the doorway, smiling and waving at you. “Hey, so you ready to go?”

“Nah, I’m half naked. I decided to walk here just to bother you and check our your sister.” You joke, and nearly jump out of your skin when Terri smacks your chest hard. “Fuck, what the hell.”

“If you were half naked, that would’ve hurt a lot more!” She grinned and started heading down the hall. “Lead the way, coolkid.” And that’s what you did, taking her hand, and surprisingly she didn’t argue. You get her down to your car, where she felt up the interior and laughed and dug into your hidden bag of Skittles under the seat. You even get her number when she dropped her phone and used yours to call hers so she could find it. Score. It all went well, if you were to say so, joking and lighthearted talking, while she managed to somehow pick out all your red Skittles.

You park, retrieving your bags and even offering to carry her’s for her. She politely declines, and by that, you mean she steps on your foot and takes her bag back with a sly grin and a cackle. Rude. 

The two of you make your way inside, and she sniffs around like a dog and you start questioning her mental health. She’s like one of those psycho chicks that survive throughout the entire horror flick just for you to find out the whole thing was a figment of that chick’s imagination and she’s actually in like mental hold for being totally off the wall bonkers or some straight up bullshit that makes for the worst and more cliche ending ever. You can’t think of a single movie that ends that way, but you are almost completely sure that there’s got to be a huge number of them somewhere.

“It smells like glue,” she pointed out with disgust, “glue and Axe.” She blinks a couple times, before turning and gripping a handful of your shirt and giving it a whiff. You arch a brow, but let her. “Okay, the Axe is you.”

You roll your eyes behind your shades, placing a hand on her back to hush her along. She scoffs but doesn’t argue, letting you lead her and she produces a cane from her sylladex. She unfolds it and taps it on the ground, and swats at your hand that rested against the small of her back. You let it fall, and she grins. “Good boy.”

“I don’t think you have the right to be calling me a dog.” You walk her down the hall where kids were gathering, most of them lost in their lockers or looking stressed, a couple sneaking off to the bathroom with more than obvious lumps in their pockets that were more than likely cigarette packs. You give them another glance, before catching a few people with their eyes on the two of you. “Hey,” you give her a glance.

“Yeah?” She turns her head slightly in your direction to show she’s listening, but keeps it mostly balanced on the space infront of her. That’s where her focus was, making sure nothing was infront of her. The whole “don’t help me” vibe flowed off of her in little waves of menace and disgust. She didn’t want to be babied. 

“Did they give you a schedule or anything? Like should be stop by the office or something?” You give a glance around, spotting another kid giving Terri a once over. It was a kid you knew, went by the name of Ricky Martin you believe, he didn’t know your name. At least, he never called you by your name. ‘Faggot’ was his usual term when he took the time out of his busy schedule to address you.

“Mailed it to me.” She swings her bag around with her free arm, waving it in your direction. “Outermost pocket. It’s probably the paper ball.” She flashes you a grin, and you retrieve the crumpled up paper weapon and unroll it carefully. “Huh, first period is gym. Can they even make you participate in gym?”

“I’m pretty damn mean with a dodgeball.” She defended, whacking you hard in the shin with her cane. You hiss and rub the spot. You reply with something witty, along the lines of ‘yeah I bet the floor and wall hate it when you hit them, probably knocks those bitches right out of the park’. You’re about to continue your response when you glance up and spot two people who were like yin and yang, black and white. Total opposites and attached at the hip like fucking happy little peas in a pod.  


___________________________________________________________

  


**Terri:**

“Yo Vantas, Makara.” Dave greeted two people who were obviously unknown to you. You follow his voice, and end up hitting someone in the foot with your cane. At least, you think it’s their foot.

“Oops.” You state, waiting for a complaint and none comes except what sounds like an angry huff.

“I thought you were fucking kidding.” Finally someone says something. This guy sounds mad. He’s probably the one you hit. You do it once again for good measure.

“Why the fuck do you keep stabbing me with the goddamn walking stick? I get it, you’re blind, but twice in a row in bullshit.” He growls annoyed and you flash a smile in what you guess to be his direction. You stab him again.

There’s a lazy chuckle that sounds like it comes from somewhere high up and you tilt your head back. “Either there’s a tall person next to me or someone is on the ceiling.” You joke, and the chuckle turns into a laugh.

“Nah baby girl, that’s just me.” His voice is slow, deep and full of something that almost makes you want to shiver. 

“And who is this me???” You question with a grin, interested. He seems to find you mildly entertaining, so you’re sure the two of you were going to get along just fine.

“That’s Gavin Makara.” Dave replies to your question, sounding uninterested and you almost pout. “The angry one who is about to break your cane is Karter Vantas.”

“Breaking my way of transportation is discrimination against a handicap,” you point out while sticking out your tongue in Karter’s general direction. “My aunt’s a cop, I would know.” You give Karter one last hit, before pulling your cane back to your center and resting your hands atop it. 

“Strider of all the dumb fucking shit you do on a normal day to day basis, you decide to befriend the niece of a cop. Are you trying to get your dumbass arrested?” He growls and you nudge Dave in the side.

“Oooooooh, do you do _illegal things_?” You purr eagerly, glancing in his direction and gripping his arm.

Dave flinches a bit, before sighing thickly. “Sometimes.” You hear Karter burst into a roar of laughter and you can’t help but grin. 

You already know you’re going to like it here.  


___________________________________________________________

You find out that you have gym with Gavin, and spend the first day being targeted with dodgeballs and telling “that’s what she said” jokes with him. He reeks of weed and stale dust, but he’s got an attractive voice and he seems decent enough. He eggs you on a little bit though, so unaffected by anything and everything about you. Anything controversial gets blown off as too much thinking or a simple “ _miracles, sista_ ”. He sounds dumb when he says that. You almost wish the coach would’ve let you keep your cane on you so you could drub him with it’s base. 

He decides to walk you to your second class, which is art. Another class you can’t really do shit in. You damn well hope the teacher likes splatter art and messy desk space, because that’s exactly what she’s in for. He even goes to the extent of walking you to a table of people he knows, and even introducing you. Turns out the art room is filled with tables, each seating four people. You hope they like splatter art too. You take a seat.

“So you’re completely blind? Like you can’t see anythiiiiiiiing?” A shrill voice asks you and you glance up.

“Not completely blind. Like, doctors say normal blind people just see black. Everything is just blotchy colors for me. Extremely blotchy.” You shrug, and she ‘hmph’s.

“Veronica,” a deep female voice warns. She sounds odd, with a slight accent that let you know she wasn’t from around here. She sounded a little like those terrorists in movies, same accent. You quietly wonder if that’s racist, but decide that skin color doesn’t mean anything anyway.

“You’re Rimma, right?” You turn your head in the general direction of the voice.

“Mhmm,” she nods, you think. “My name is Rimma Maryam.” She sounds like she’s writing, scribbling something down in a piece of paper. “So Terri, what are your interests?”

“I like LARPing.” You give a shrug as you dig through your interests. “Anything pertaining to law as well. I’m pretty dull.” You state sarcastically, drumming your fingernails against the table. Your sister painted them last night, said they looked pretty, you simply agreed and trusted her on it. They were probably something that was considered to most people girly. She called the color pink, but you aren’t exactly sure what that color looks like.

“LARPing is the shit!” Veronica replied excitedly. You wonder if she leaned in on the table closer to you, suddenly interested. “Especially when we get four eyes over here’s girlfriend to play and Travis!” She laughed. “Travis is kinda a drag, though.”

You hear a scoff next to you, and you’re almost startled. You knew there was a third person who was _supposed_ to be there, you just didn’t know they actually were.

“He’s only a drag because of your sorry ass, I hope you know.” The fellow directly to your right replies, and you hear headphones leave the jack of something. A quiet power down sound of some game, and some ruffling of a bag. You are officially confused. 

“Hey!” Veronica is all defense now, sounding almost offended. “I was young, okay. We all make mistakes.”

“It’s only a mistake if you regret it.” The lisping boy next to you points out. He doesn’t sound angry, more entertained than anything. He thinks Veronica is a joke, she’s a joke and she’s the funniest damn one he’s heard all day.

You can tell she’s preparing a reply when there’s the snap of what seems to be a ruler on a desk, and the teacher calls the class to order. “Good morning children!” She chirps and a few quiet replies rumble throughout the classroom. “Today we will be working with sketching! Now I want you to pair up with the person across the table from you, and do a sketch. This is just a warm up, don’t worry I won’t be grading it. You have fifteen minutes. You do not have to finish.”

Of fucking course. This assignment takes you all of five minutes, and you have no idea what Veronica even looks like so it’s mostly just a bunch of lines and what looks like a mohawk. You tried to doodle a tornado in the corner and then you scribble your name on what you hope is the top.

“Look’s just like her.” The kid-- you think his name is Salem?-- sitting next to you whispers and you snicker. “I on the other hand have no such artistic skills.”

“Not everyone can be born talented _and_ pretty.” You flip your hair dramatically and he laughs at you. You can tell you two are going to get along already. 

“Do you have a chum handle?” He asks quietly after a moment. “I dunno how that shit works with not being able to see and all that.”

“Yeah!” You grin and grope around for a piece of paper. “My computer reads things aloud for me. Keyboard is braille’d.” You find a paper and scribble down “ gallowsCalibrator” in your messy handwriting. You hope he can read it. He takes it and doesn’t ask any questions, so you simply guess it’s was legible. 

The rest of the class passes by quite uneventfully, the teacher almost in shock when you notified her of your disability-- she used that word and you almost spat on her fucking shoes-- and thought it would be interesting having you in her class, but she’s worried that the school didn’t even bother to notify her. 

But that’s when Veronica excused herself to go to the bathroom and you continued scribbling whatever else on your paper until you heard the door slam. “Okay, what’s with her?” You give a glance to Rimma and Salem. They both look up from their work and Rimma shuffles in her seat like she’s preparing herself to tell a long story.

“She’s bad news,” she started. “Real bad news. She was the kid on the playground at age 6 ripping wings off of butterflies.”

“Then she’d toss those wings Travis’ way,” Salem added. “And she’d laugh and he was the kid who tried to nurse to fucking thing back to health like he could save it. A butterfly isn’t shit without wings and he knew it but he was king of setting himself up for disappointment. To this day he’s the same way.”

“When they were ten, Veronica thought it would be funny to make it look like Travis just tripped down a flight of stairs. Demented child, God you’ll understand where she gets it once you meet her mother.”

You arch a brow in confusion, before Rimma continues. “Ms. Serket is the history teacher, that’s your next period. Anyway,” she stops for a moment and Salem scoffs and makes a comment that her makeup is fine. “Travis’ spine snapped right above his butt, he can’t feel below the waist. Well okay, I don’t know about anything...”

“We’re not going to have a conversation about the usefulness of his dick, ‘kay Rimma?” Salem sounded annoyed. “They tossed her into juevy for three years. It would’ve been shorter if she had a lawyer probably,but her mom refused to hire one. She simply said something about the lines of, “lock the kid up, she deserves it”. Sounds like A plus parenting to me, but not everyone saw eye-to-eye.” He sighed like the world was made of bullshit, but you can’t argue. She did a crime, and she did the time. Wow, that sounded super cliche. 

“After doing her time, when she came back her image even changed. She put streaks in her hair and decided to rebel against anything and everything her mother told her. It was ridiculous on so many levels considering she brought it all on herself,” Rimma took a moment to collect her thoughts, “but it’s still ridiculous. I don’t believe in rebelling without a cause.”

“Rimma here is major feminist.” Salem scribbled on his paper loudly, before dropping the pencil. 

“Yes,” the foreign girl nodded. “And she seems to make all of my beliefs look like jokes. I believe women should be equal, not dominant. But she’s got it out that we’re the better gender and that there’s everything in the entire world wrong with men. That’s not the point of feminism at all.” She sighed, and you could tell she was frustrated. You’re tempted to ask her if she owns a blog, but you decide it’s obvious. She totally owns a blog. 

The class bell rings, and it startles you out of your skin. You swallow, moving to gather your things and just tossing them back into your bag. 

___________________________________________________________

[](http://s716.photobucket.com/user/mahoneyb8/media/lofamterriart.png.html)[](http://s716.photobucket.com/user/mahoneyb8/media/lofamveronicaart.png.html)[](http://s716.photobucket.com/user/mahoneyb8/media/lofamrimmamaryam.png.html)[](http://s716.photobucket.com/user/mahoneyb8/media/lofamsalemart.png.html)

___________________________________________________________

You get Salem to walk you to your next class, and the two of you hit it off like fireworks. He’s snarky and sassy and he’s got the funniest laugh you’ve ever heard. You’re pretty sure he’s accidentally spat on you at least three times, but he’s got a certain charm that makes you want to like him, so it’s easy to look past. Well, not look.

“Here we are,” he directs you into the room and even walks you over to a desk. “Hey AA, can GC here sit with you and AT?” He asks and you suddenly wonder who AA is, but after what idly sounds like a quick kiss rings in your ears, you realize it’s Salem’s girlfriend.  
“Sure,” she returns and she has a sweet voice, something that sounded wistful in an odd way. You already think you are going to like her. “The seat next to me is empty anyway.”

“I wonder why.” Salem joked and you hear her slap his arm. “Oh come on Aran, don’t be rude. GC’s aunt is a cop. She is a witness to a domestic violence crime.”

You raise your hands in defeat. “Sorry Salem, blind as a bat. I saw nothing.” You raise your hand for a high five, and without hesitation, Aran delivers one.

“Already being ganged up on by a bunch of bitches.” Salem muttered disgustedly, before turning to leave. “I’m flipping you both off as I go, I hope you know.”

“See no evil,” you joke and he laughs as he leaves the room. You glance in whatever direction you think Aran is in. “Name’s Terri.”

“Aran Dia. Aran for short.” She turns you around to face her and shakes your hand. “Travis will be sitting in our row as well, I think you’ll like him.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard a little about him in art class.” You feel around for your chair and take a seat. You land almost half way off the seat but manage not to fall and scoot over so you’re sitting properly. 

Before Aran has a chance to ask, which you’re sure she would’ve, someone says ‘Pyrope’ and your head snaps up. “Yes ma’am?”

“Ma’am? Polite.” She replies and you are sure she’s the teacher. She places something on your desk and you feel at it. Papers, you believe. “Politeness doesn’t mean I’ll like you though.”

“Never thought it would.” You reply cooly. She sounds intimidating and you idly remember Rimma telling you Veronica’s mom taught this class. “I simply thought it was a necessity.” 

She doesn’t reply right away, and you can tell she’s trying to read if you’re joking. You hold a high amount of respect in authority, so politeness at almost all times is a necessity. Unless they’re wrong. Or an idiot. She seems to deem you respectable and gives a nod. “Your shoes don’t match.”

You blink, before nodding and she simply walks away. “Do my shoes really not match?”

“One is blue and one is orange.”

“Like that means anything to me.” You scoff and sit back in your chair. While you were busy, it seems that Travis had joined you.

He mumbles a few things under his breath in Spanish as he sorts through his bag, and you shake your head in his direction. “Yo kid.”

“Huh?” He sounds surprised that you’re talking to him. “Oh, hi there.” He sounds sort of lost, like he isn’t sure what to say. Almost cautious. 

“Name’s Terri, what’s yours?”

“Travis.” He replies and his ‘r’ rolls a little. Kid has a nice Hispanic accent on him. You think it’s Hispanic, he was speaking what you believe to be Spanish afterall.

Ms. Serket starts the class without prompt, and introduces you. You are sure everyone turned to look, so you gave a small wave just incase. If nobody turned to look, then none of them saw you make an idiot move like that. The teacher announces that she’ll be leaving halfway through the class and Mr. Thomas, some substitute, would be taking over. Apparently Ms. Serket has another daughter whom has fallen ill as of recent and needs a trip to the doctors office. Lovely. 

Her teaching methods were boring, if stated plainly. She went on and on, and you hung to everyone word. Why? Because it’s fucking history and history is the shit. It’s better when it’s fun, but it sounds like everyone is simply taking notes and she’s talking away like there’s no tomorrow. Finally she stops, and you’re almost disappointed. You enjoy long lectures and taking in huge pieces of information. It poses as a challenge, and you have a thing for that. Thing aren’t fun if they’re handed to you a silver platter. 

The teacher announces she’s leaving, and she does just that as a nervous sounding sub stumbles in, and a couple kids straight up lie and say that the teacher said they could watch a movie. The substitute, who you guessed must be new to the job, puts in _The Land Before Time_ , rather reluctantly. Aran and Travis make a point of turning so their desks are head to head and pull you over to sit next to them. Aran says they’re playing _Yu-Gi-Oh_ and you say okay and that you have no idea how to play. Apparently neither of them has the patience to explain to the blind girl how to play. Rude.

The class passes like molasses, slow and dreary. You don’t understand the game, but Aran is nice and gives you a couple good conversations, plus Travis seems to warm up to you and the three of you swap chum handles. It’s nice, and after the class ends they offer to walk you to lunch. You accept without hesitation, and after making your way to the room, you find yourself sitting with several of the people you’d met throughout the day. It turns out that they do lunch by grade, and since freshmen have already eaten, it’s sophomore's turn. The three of you meet up with Veronica, Dave, Karter, Gavin, and a few others.

“That’s Jake,” Dave points out to you and an Australian accent greets you with some sort of variation of hello, and you wave. “He’s Jade’s twin, you’ll meet Jade later. She goes to the private school a couple blocks away. We have a lot of friends there too. Okay and that’s John.”

“Oh, so you’re the smoking hot Asian chick Dave hasn’t shut up about all day?” John greets you and shakes your hand and you have to snicker. Dave mutters something angry to him and you laugh again. “His words, not mine.”

You give a wink in Dave’s general direction and sink into a seat. You all get on with lunch, and for the most part it’s quite enjoyable. John is funny and his voice is easy to recognize, Dave sits on one side of you and Gavin on the other. Gavin likes to lean down and whisper funny things to you and you like to laugh because you totally don’t enjoy the feel of his cool breath on your ear. Not one bit. Karter screams like a bitch most of lunch, but you persuade him to fork over half of his juice box and you’re convinced that eventually all of them will be putty in your hands. Aran and Salem snog a little apparently, and Karter tells everyone he wishes he was you so he wouldn’t have to watch and Salem threw bologna at him. All in all, it was a wonderful lunch period.

___________________________________________________________

**Karter:**

\--carcinoGeneticist [ CG ] has started pestering grimAuxiliatrix [ GA ]--  
CG: KANYA.  
CG: YOU THERE?  
GA: Yes  
GA: Indeed I Am  
CG: I HAVE A QUESTION.  
CG: IT’S GOING TO SOUND DUMB.  
GA: Alright  
GA: I Will As I Usually Do Try To Keep An Open Mind  
GA: And Not Comment On The Strange Conditions Of Such An Inquiry  
CG: COOL.  
CG: ANYWAY  
CG: MY ROMCOMS CAN’T HELP ME HERE.  
CG: AT LEAST NOT LOGICALLY.  
CG: WHAT DO YOU DO WHEN THERE’S A NEW GIRL AND YOU’RE PRETTY SURE EVERYONE TOTALLY LIKES HER AND YOU DO TOO?  
CG: BUT YOU’RE ABOUT 99.9% SURE YOU HAVE SHIT CHANCE WITH HER.  
GA: That Is Not Odd  
GA: What Is Odd Is That You Do Not Believe Your Romcoms Are Of Assistance  
GA: Are You Ill  
GA: Feverish Maybe  
CG: OMFG  
CG: BITCH, PLEASE.  
CG: MY ROMCOMS HELP IN ABOUT EVERY OTHER SITUATION BESIDES THE ONE I’M CURRENTLY DEALING WITH.  
CG: WHICH IS MY USUAL LUCK ANYWAY SO I HAVE NO IDEA WHY I’M FUCKING SURPRISED.  
GA: What Is Her Name  
CG: TERRI.  
CG: AND SHE’S A WEIRDO.  
GA: Sounds Like Your Type  
CG: RUDE.  
CG: I’M SORRY BUT LAST TIME I CHECKED, WHICH ONE OF US WAS PAWING AFTER THE BLONDE PSYCHOANALYTICAL GIRL IN A SCHOOL UNIFORM?  
CG: IT SURE AS HELL WASN’T ME.  
CG: FACE IT KANYA, SHE’S A WHACKO.  
GA: Rose Is No Such  
GA: Shes Simply Different Is All  
CG: I WISH I COULD SEND YOU A PICTURE OF ME LAUGHING RIGHT NOW.  
GA: I Find Her Psych Related Endeavors Rather Endearing  
CG: THAT’S BECAUSE SHE HASN’T ASKED YOU IF YOUR FATHER EVER TOUCHED YOU INAPPROPRIATELY.  
GA: Well Did He  
CG: YES.  
CG: ONE TIME HE TOUCHED MY WEINER WHILE CHANGING MY DIAPER.  
CG: IT WAS TRAUMATIZING.  
GA: That Wasnt Funny  
CG: THAT WAS PLENTY FUNNY.  
CG: HOW DID WE GO FROM TALKING ABOUT MY ROMANTIC ISSUES TO MY BABY DICK.  
CG: WOW FUCK THAT CAME OUT WRONG  
GA: Dont Worry  
GA: I Will Keep The Fact Of How Tiny Your Genitals Are Confined To This Conversation  
CG: WHAT A LIFE SAVER YOU ARE KANYA.  
GA: What Are Friends For  
GA: Oh Gosh I Have To Go  
GA: I Am Sorry I Was Of No Assistance  
CG: GOOD RIDDANCE.  
GA: Ha  
\--grimAuxiliatrix [ GA ] ceased pestering carcinoGeneticist [ CG ]--

Well that was fucking fruitful.

\--carcinoGeneticist [ CG ] started pestering caligulasAquarium [ CA ]--  
CG: ERIN ARE YOU ONLINE.  
CA: no  
CG: AWESOME.  
CG: I NEED YOUR HELP.  
CA: wwhat is it  
CG: THERE’S THIS NEW GIRL AT SCHOOL.  
CA: oh no kar wwhat a problem  
CA: i better fuckin get to fixin it right awway  
CG: SHUT YOUR STUPID FUCKING FACE RIGHT NOW.  
CG: I AM NOT FINISHED.  
CA: did you try turnin it on and off again  
CG: ERIN FUCKING AMPORA.  
CG: ******SHUT******  
CG: ******YOUR******  
CG: ******FUCKING******  
CG: ******FACE******  
CA: gosh kar dont gotta be rude about it  
CA: just tryin to be funny  
CG: WELL YOU AREN’T.  
CG: AS I WAS SAYING.  
CG: SHE’S QUITE ATTRACTIVE  
CA: oh no  
CA: is this a sex talk  
CA: i am not schoolin you in the birds and the bees kar  
CA: sorry your mommy aint ever sober enough to do so  
CA: maybe call up your church goin dad or somethin  
CG: I’M DONE.  
\--carcinoGeneticist [CG] ceased pestering caligulasAquarium [CA]--

You growl aloud and sink down into your seat. You want to throw your computer across the study hall, tear it to shreds and stomp it into the dust. You glance through who is online, and arsenicCatnip is lit up, but she’s the last person you want to discuss this with. Dave is also a no, and Aran’s weird Asian sister is online but there’s no way in hell you want to talk to her more than necessary. Even if the Chinese food place she works at is your usual hangout when you and Gavin decide to run away from school for lunch. You stare at the one name that you’re actually surprised is lit, and click it.

\--carcinoGeneticist [ CG ] has started pestering gardenGnostic [ GG ]--  
CG: JADE WHY ARE YOU ONLINE?  
CG: AREN’T YOU GOODY TWO-SHOES SUPREME?  
CG: I’M QUITE SHOCKED THAT YOU HAVE STOOPED AS LOW AS  
CG: INSERT OVERLY DRAMATIC GASP HERE  
CG: LOGGING ONLINE WHILE IN SCHOOL IS IN SESSION.  
GG: fuck bitches i do what i want!!  
GG: :D  
CG: WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH THE REAL JADE.  
GG: it is me silly!  
GG: i just wanted to think of a funny reply and that was the first thing that came to mind.  
GG: anyway!  
GG: im online because its a free period and i got permission from the teacher.  
CG: GOODY  
CG: TWO  
CG: SHOES  
GG: dont be a fuckass karter, its unattractive.  
CG: OKAY BUT SERIOUSLY  
CG: GETTING DOWN TO BUSINESS.  
GG: business??  
GG *puts on business shades* you got it!  
CG: NO.  
CG: KARTER PROCEEDS TO PULL THOSE SHADES OFF OF YOUR FACE BECAUSE THEY’RE LAME AS FUCK.  
GG: *gg proceeds to fuck karters shit because wow asshole!!!*  
CG: LOVE YOU TOO, SWEETHEART.  
CG: ANYWAY.  
CG: GETTING DOWN TO COMPLETELY NON-GLASSES RELATED BUSINESS.  
CG: THERE’S A NEW CHICK HERE AND SHE’S HOTTER THAN THE FUCKING SUN AND EVERYONE WANTS TO BANG HER.  
GG: and youre telling me this because??  
CG: BECAUSE I’M THE ONE WHO WANTS TO ROMANCE THIS GIRL OFF HER FEET AND I’M PRETTY SURE SHE’S NOT EVER GOING TO NOTICE ME.  
GG: awwwwww!!! :(  
GG: karter dont be like that! im sure shell find you plenty attractive!!  
CG: I DON’T THINK SHE CAN FIND ANYTHING ATTRACTIVE.  
CG: SHE’S BLIND.  
GG: oh.  
GG: well thats a plot twist!  
GG: well be relieved, now she doesnt have to even find you attractive so that made your chances ten times better!  
CG: DID YOU JUST CALL ME UGLY OR  
GG: uh no it was more like, its okay if she doesnt know if youre attractive because thats dumb anyway???  
CG: THAT MADE NO SENSE.  
CG: I’M GOING TO STICK WITH YOU CALLING ME UGLY.  
GG: you kinda do look like an ogre  
GG: i think its your nose??  
GG: but youre a handsome orge!!  
CG: WELL SHIT.  
CG: I’M A HOT SHREK.  
CG: THIS HAS CERTAINLY MADE MY LIFE EXPONENTIALLY BETTER.  
GG: you know thats not what i meant :(  
CG: WHATEVER.  
CG: I STILL DON’T THINK SHE’LL LIKE ME.  
GG: thats because youre dumb.  
GG: any girl would be lucky to have you karter i mean come on!  
GG: you know more about romance than most authors who write romance novels do!!  
GG: thats pretty damn incredible!  
GG: plus youre a really hot shrek.  
CG: THANKS JADE, BEAUTIFUL COMPLIMENTS HAVE GRACED ME IN THE MOST DIVINE WAYS.  
GG: that sounds dirty!!  
GG: oh shit bell rung!  
GG: bye!!!!  
\--gardenGnostic [GG] has ceased pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG]--

After that, your study hall isn’t so bad.

___________________________________________________________

**Dave:**

Class isn’t so bad for the rest of the day, you’re bored and spend most of it sending John “ i need to explain you a thing” over and over again and hoping he’ll actually listen and not make you look like an idiot infront of TZ all over again. When the final bell rings, you have to shove your phone into your pocket and wrack your brain for Terri’s last class. It was Chemistry, you think. You hope so, as you head in the general direction of that class and find a lost looking Terri wandering down the hall. You grab her arm and she nearly jumps out of her skin. “Sorry, forgot you wouldn’t instantly know it was me.”

“Good job,” she replies with a grin and you two walk together. “I’m just going to tell you about my day even though you didn’t ask.” She grins and you wrap an arm around her, and even though you expect her to, she doesn’t retaliate. Sweet. “Well first period was fun, Gavin protected me from dodgeballs, second was cool, I got to draw Veronica and Salem is fucking awesome.” See snickers at the mention of her new friend.

“He’s a funny fellow.” You need in agreement as the two of you near the front door, You’ve cleared it in a moment’s time and you’re leading her through the parking lot as she rambles on about card games and teachers. She’s in the car in no time and she’s finally stopped talking.

“Hey, do you wanna hang out at my place for a little while?”

“Sure!” She chimes as she kicks her feet up on the dash and gets back into your Skittles.

“Awesome. And oh, I have to pick up a few friends from the private school. They’re gonna be joining us.”

“Sounds like a blast.”


	2. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok second update! got the tenses fixed now, i believe.  
> i also made up all the beforian troll's handles so i'll list them here.  
> Damara - nambianNecromancy [NN]  
> Rufioh - anxiousWingman [AW]  
> Mituna - dauntlessTelekinetic [DT]  
> Kankri - inoffensiveAdvisor [IA]  
> Meulin - polydactylFeline [PF]  
> Porrim - rivetingSuccubus [RS]  
> Latula - anosmicRadical [AR]  
> Aranea - articulateRaconteur [AR]  
> Horuss - exacerbatedRuffian [ER]  
> Kurloz - enfeebleStitching [ES]  
> Cronus - jiltedJitterbug [JJ]  
> Meenah - transcendentGangster [TG]
> 
> hope you enjoy the chapter! nwn

**Kanya:**

Moving books and organized papers from the desk that presented itself infront of you, to the inside of your bag. You had made it yourself, of course. You had a knack for sewing and making things, and that often shined through, most of your clothes and belongings handmade. You were not permitted to fashion your own school uniform, though. So you were stuck with the ugly khaki vests and navy bow ties and matching pleated skirts. You didn’t think the white undershirts and black socks went together too well, but it’s nothing you can fix. The only accessory you were allowed to dawn was strictly for religious reasons. You used it to your advantage, though. You handmade your own hijab, plus every other one you own besides the few your mother fashioned for you. Your family was a mess of culture, and though your small sanction of the family was Muslim, your rebellious elder sister refused her heritage on many degrees. She claimed herself atheist, and though you respect her decision, your father was none too pleased.

You don’t like to focus on this topic, it makes you sad and ruins your spirits. You decide to ignore it for the time being and get on with your life. Taking a look around, you spot Rose who has gathered her belongings and is in conversation with Dr. Scratch. You don’t know a lot about this man, besides his inability to wear anything that is not white and his valid PhD. White skin, white hair, white clothes. He was like a big bowl of nothing. If it weren't for his strikingly emerald eyes, you were sure he’d blend into the background of the wall. You do not like him one bit.

Rose on the other hand, finds him creepy yet bearable. There are far too many instances where they will distance themselves from the class while they break down in conversation. You guess this is what you get for signing up for Mythology with one miss Rose Lalonde, and it just makes things all the worse that Dr. Scratch is also her Psych teacher. 

You mosey up behind the other and wait patiently, clearing your throat to let her know that you were there. She gives you a glance and a nod, and tells the professor that the two of them will finish their conversation later. The two of you exit together, and you can’t help but feel lovesick when you notice the way her hair bounces and sways with each of her footsteps. She’s delicate, pale and soft with round features and pouty lips. You quietly wonder if all of her is like that, soft and round and ivory-colored. You are sure your father would not be proud of you for these thoughts, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You think you love her. 

“Kanya, are you listening to me?” She asks suddenly, and you have to stop and look at her. You don’t remember her saying anything, so you are a tad dumbstruck before finally telling her that you weren't and apologize profusely.

“I said,” she starts again, unoffended and tucking a strand of short white hair behind her ear. “Dave is going to come and pick us up. We need to meet the others by the weeping willow outside.” 

You give her a nod, a little overzealous but you really want to make sure she knows you heard her this time. Plus, you love the weeping willow. The front of the school is beautiful, apple trees and cherry blossoms and a large weeping willow that had a bench underneath. Lots of the school kids stayed out there after school to study or snuck their lunches out there. There was also a lovely courtyard, with cobblestone sidewalks and vines climbing the walls of the building where small flowers budded out. The first time you had stepped into this school, you had been in awe.

The two of you made your ways outside, sliding under the dangling branches of the melancholy tree and into it’s shade. It’s hot, like it usually is and the shade is a nice relief. You and Rose have a moment alone, and you decide to seize the moment.

“Did you finish the book report for Trexler?” You give her a glance. Trexler was your first period, and her fourth. It was such a shame that she couldn't transfer to your class, or vice versa. 

She looks up from her phone to you. She has a chat open with what appears to be red text. Darker red than Dave’s, so you safely assume she’s chatting with Aran and not Aran’s elder sister. She scares you.

“Oh yes, I finished that days ago actually. I decided to step it down a notch and crack open something more along the lines of cliche horror and psychological terror. So I picked up an old copy of Cassie by Stephen King and gave it a read. Not his best work, unfortunately.” She shakes her head and tucks her phone away, giving a glance up. “Jade,” she greets quietly. The other girl ducks through the limbs of the tree and plops against the counter of the wooden table. 

“Ugh!” She whines and falls back. She’s middle Eastern as well, but more so Indian rather than your Iraqi. She lacks accent, due to deculturalization of living in America her whole life. “Study hall was good but I’m convinced my Tech teacher hates me.”

“ Doesn't he give you the stink-eye on a normal basis?” Rose jokes, turning to pick some leaves out of the Jade’s ridiculously long hair. It would be so much more beautiful if she cared for it properly. Your hair had almost been that long at one point, but after your illness you had lost most of it and since then it had only grown back a short amount. Sighing, you pull your phone from your bag and sign into Pesterchum. Almost immediately, his horrid purple text was bothering you. Again.

\--caligulasAquarium [ CA ] started pestering grimAuxiliatrix [ GA ]--  
CA: kan you gotta fuckin stop her  
CA: hes pickin her up again  
CA: he cant keep doing this shit  
CA: wwhy cant she see hes no good for her  
CA: she wwont listen to me kan help  
CA: ivve told her time and time again that he aint a one wwoman kinda man  
GA: He Has To Be  
CA: wwhy  
GA: Because Its Amazing When He Gets One Woman   
GA: I Cant Imagine Him Getting More  
CA: okay yeah thats a good point  
CA: BUT STILL  
CA: hes fuckin dangerous   
CA: and fef wwont listen to me  
GA: He Doesnt Seem Very Dangerous To Me  
GA: Maybe Stupid And Cliche  
GA: But Not Dangerous  
CA: wwhat if he crashes his motorcycle wwhile shes on it  
CA: or his cigarette gets caught in her hair  
CA: nobody likes him wwhat if he gets the livvin fuck beat outta him  
CA: and fef is there and gets hurt too  
CA: WWHAT IF KAN  
GA: What If You Stopped Being A Paranoid Over Protective Fool   
CA: i aint ovver protectivve  
GA: Oh Really  
CA: yes really  
GA: So Why Do You Care If Fefanne Goes Out With Him  
CA: hes my owwn brother  
CA: i knoww him better than any of yall do  
CA: and hes not her type  
GA: Apparently He Is Because She Likes Him  
GA: And You Know Her  
CA: yeah  
CA: tell her to do one thing and she turns round and does the opposite  
CA: ugh  
GA: I Feel Like Her And My Sister Would Get Along  
CA: oh god no  
CA: do not bring your crazed femnazi sister into this  
GA: My Sister Believes In Equal Rights  
GA: Not Genocide  
CA: it wwas a joke  
CA: dont go all tumblr on me kan  
GA: Whats Tumblr  
CA: its a heardin ground for unicorns  
CA: and by that i mean a bunch of people wwho think theyre better than evveryone else  
CA: its a poisonous place wwhere you arent allowwed to think for yourself  
CA: plus theres lots of cats and porn  
GA: And Let Me Guess  
GA: You Spend Every Free Moment You Have On This Site  
CA: of fuckin course  
GA: I Will Never Understand Bloggers  
GA: How Can You Spend Every Waking Moment With Your Eyes Glued To A Computer Screen  
CA: because the internet people dont tell me im annoyin  
CA: theyre my true friends kan  
GA: Lets Not Do This Again  
GA: Please  
CA: rude  
CA: shit wwhere did fef go  
CA: FUCK  
\--caligulasAquarium [ CA ] ceased pestering grimAuxiliatrix [ GA ]--

You give a glance around, but just as you spot Fefanne, the loud roar of an engine blasts in your ears and your head snaps over to spot Conan pulling into the parking lot on his bike, He pulls his helmet off, producing a comb from his sleeve and slicking his hair back. You are sure there’s enough hair gel holding his do together to equate to at least half a gallon of grease. Gross. 

“Annie,” he calls in his weird accent and she’s over to him in a heartbeat. It takes them all of thirty seconds to get her bag fastened to the bike and the helmet on her head, and he skids around in a circle before taking off down the road. About two moments later, Erin runs out of the school’s front entrance, panting and looking around. He looks disappointed. You try to hide in your hijab and hope he does not approach you. 

To your relief, you spot the shining red of Dave’s Toyota, which was being quickly followed by a slightly shabby blue pickup truck. You stand, and give a glance to Rose. She’s eyeing the cars as well, before collecting her things and shaking Jade who looked like she had been drifting off in her spot. Jade often stayed up late working on only God knows what, and due to that fact, she had a horrible habit of falling asleep if you gave her the slightest chance. She stirs, sitting up abruptly. 

“Ride’s here.” Rose tells her and she gets up, rubbing at her eyes under her glasses and the three of you make your way over to your friends. You sigh happily, once you are out of the heat and in the sanctuary of Dave’s air-conditioned car. You spot a stranger in the front seat, and you wonder if this is the new girl that has Karter in knots. 

“Why, hello there.” You start and the girl turns, red glasses bouncing as she does and she adjusts them. 

“Oh hey there.” She grins and waves and you feel weird because it seems like she’s looking farther to the right than she needs to be. 

“That’s Rimma’s lil’ sister,” Dave informs the girl. You think Karter said her name was Terri, and that she was weird. “Her name’s Kanya. Kanya, this is Terri.” 

“Well it’s nice to meet you Terri.” You smile and stick a hand out and wait for her to shake it. She does not. She doesn't even look at your hand and you can’t help but be a little insulted by just how rude she was. Dave looks like he’s about to burst into laughter. You do not understand why. 

“Hi Terri!” Jade bounces and pats the girl on the shoulder. “My name is Jade!” Terri’s hand comes up to grab hers in surprise and they shake. You feel even more offended than before. Now Dave really is laughing. He has his face on the steering wheel and he is, as he would say, ‘losing his shit’. 

“Kanya...” He trails off between laughs and everyone is staring at him. “Oh my god you look so angry, I’m gonna cry...” He wipes at his eyes and sits up straight to look at you. He looks like he’s about to say something, but ends up choking on more laughter. 

“What’s he going on about?” Terri turns her head in the general direction of the back and it looks like she’s once again got her eyes on Rose. 

“You didn't return Kanya’s handshake.” The girl next to you points out and you almost want to hug her. You don’t enjoy conflict, but you don’t like bad manners. “She seems none too pleased.” 

“Oh!” Terri puts her hand out, it facing the wrong way. “Sorry, blind. You could hold a hot skillet in front of my face and I wouldn't know it.” 

Well you officially feel like an idiot. 

You take her hand and give it a firm shake and you apologize to your heart’s content and she blows it off because she’s ‘used to it’. You decide to not let that make you feel worse and you sink back into your seat to feel like a fool a little longer. 

___________________________________________________________

**Lulu:**

You focus solely on the feeling of wind threading through your locks and the sensation of floating that only lasts a few seconds, before you slam your foot into the ground and force your body to speed up. A hill is closing in, and before you know it, you’re gliding. You let gravity take you, building momentum as any loose strings or locks flap around you and before you know it the hill ends, going straight for a couple feet before dropping again. You roll over asphalt and ignore the slight bounce caused by stray pebbles. You leap as you get to the second drop, flying through the hair for a moment’s time before reconnecting to the ground and give a glance around. 

There was a break in the trees ahead, where the other half of town started. You leave the small wooded area behind, zipping past several shops. You avoid all the people you can, making sure not to bump shoulders or cause anyone to drop anything. The last thing you need to be hauled off the the sheriff’s office just to be face to face with your aunt. 

This was better than being home, though. And much better than school. All of your classes were a drag and three out of five teachers confiscated your PSP. How are you supposed to be the best at games if you can’t practice? Plus everyone in your classes seemed to not like you. The only person who has said two words to you all day was Meenah in your third period. and she was pretty cool. That gal was straight up GANGSTER. Ha! You really need someone to high-five right about now. 

You glance to the street signs, stopping to allow several cars to pass through the intersection. You adjust your glasses and helmet, tapping your foot and wishing that you had miles upon miles of open space just so you could lose yourself in the breeze. Nothing mattered when you had the wind in your face and hair, not the lack of odor in your life, not the way you felt compelled to make everything perfect in anyway you could, none of it. It was just you and the board and the wide open. 

The light turns green, and you jump the curb and roll down the sidewalk on the other side, giving another look around before finding Mulbury Street. You had only heard about this, considering your Google search came up mostly empty. Cutting down the alley between Lincoln and Fritter, you find yourself on another street before you finally spot the sign you’re looking for. 

_SKATE PARK .3 MILES_

_Ka-ching!_ You’re going in the right direction and you are stoked. You weren't sure if it was legit or not, but taking your time to admire this sign, you can’t help but think. 

th1s 1s so fuck1ng leg1t!!

You begin your descent down the road, and it’s lacking in cars. From what you've heard, this place is pretty much on the outskirts of town and you like it that way. Away from all the beeping of cars and doorbells and babbling tongues of the crowd. You let the world fade in and out as you ride down a long portion of winding road, before finally finding yourself outside a chain-link fence. The door was opened, a large padlock hooked and locked to part of the fence. You safely assume it’s used to close this place at night, and you notice a slightly rusted metal sign on the door. 

**HOURS: MONDAY-THURSDAY: 10AM - 7:30PM FRIDAY: 10AM - 8:30PM SATURDAY-SUNDAY: 8AM - 9PM**

You hop back on your board and skate down the dirt path, giving a glance around. It was only about 30 seconds of maneuvering through trees and rocks on the ground, but then the sound of cheering and laughter was heard and for the first time since this horrid move you feel like you’re home. Finally hitting asphalt, you’re suddenly surrounded by wooden ramps and steps and grinding poles and a vending machine. The ground is a colorful mess of graffiti and sidewalk chalk and there aren't many people there, but one of them catches your eye right away. 

No helmet, hair a black mess and a set of glasses in place, bright yellow shirt that made him stand out, dark baggy sweats. He was a little on the short side, but as he took that top corner and flipped over backwards before landing perfectly and speeding down the ramp, you were sure he was going to be fucking radical as hell. 

As he skated off the side, kicking his board up into his hands and high-fiving another skater, and you let out a loud whistle to gain their attention. And that’s exactly what it does, the small group of them turning to look at you. All of them besides a petite red head on the bench towards the trees who looked lost in her notebook doodling. 

“Hey!” The guy in yellow calls, pushing past his friends and giving you a wry grin as he made his way over to you. “You’re new.” 

“Totes.” You smile, stepping hard on the back of your board so it snapped up and your fingers gripped the end. “Just moved from waaaaay out west. New crib back in the city. down on the intersection between Fitzgerald and Larsen.” You realize you’re rambling, and decide to shut your mouth. 

He doesn't seem too bothered though, grinning. His eyes were hard to see, hidden behind hair and glasses, but they looked a little odd from the glimpse you got. Maybe it was just the red pigment of your shades distorting his image. “I don’t live too far from there, name’s Mitt. Mitt Captor.” 

“Lulu,” you give him a quick high-five instead of a handshake and he looks very pleased. “Lulu Pyrope.” 

“Lulu?” Her arches a brow before gargling that around in his head, and looking back up at you. “How about I call you Tulip? You remind me of a flower. Plus, you smell nice.” He smirks and you decide not to let the comment bother you. 'Hey I don’t have the ability to smell', yeah that wasn't exactly how you wanted to start out a conversation. 

“Tulip it is!” You grin and tuck your hair behind your ears. “So when’s this rad gal here gonna get a turn on that there ramp?” You arch a brow, and you are more than eager to show off a little. 

Go for it, girlfriend.” Mitt waves his hand behind him and you’re climbing the ladder in a heartbeat. Once at the top, you adjust your helmet on your head and drop your board. Perching yourself over the corner, the first set of wheels resting over the edge, you suck in a deep breath and you’re off. The wind whips around your face as your stomach seems to be left behind in the dust, racing down to the bottom of the ‘U’ shape. Gravity seems to greet you once again, making you feel even heavier for a moment before you begin your ascent, back up the other side of the ‘U’. You do a simple back-turn on the first corner, before skating back to where you started and letting your hand grip the corner, forcing yourself upside down. You held that for a moment, before returning to gliding over the worn wood. You hear the sound of a whistle, and you hope more than anything that Mitt was the one who made it. 

___________________________________________________________

**Jade:**

You snuggle close down in your seat, sighing. Dave’s car is warm and you can’t help but peel off your sweater-vest and unbutton the top two buttons of your white button-up. You let your eyes close, just listening to Rose humming along quietly to her music and Terri rumbling through what sounded like a bag of candy. It takes you a matter of seconds to drift off. 

Your dreams are simple, things that haven’t happened yet like they always were. You often wrote down your dreams, the dates you had them, and the dates they happen for real. At least, the ones that do happen. But there have been a handful of those where it was just one big mix match of deja vu. You sometimes told your friends about your dreams, but mostly they sounded skeptical and Dave even asked if you had a mental history once. You love your friends, but it really hurts when they don’t believe you about things that happen in your life! 

You also aren't always aware when your dreams do come true, because sometimes you have dreams where you aren't even present in a situation. It’s like someone videotaped it, and you were standing by watching the tape afterward. 

Today’s dream was an oddball. Gavin sat on a mound of dirt, strumming away at his guitar and looking sad. His hair was a mess, and his face was lacking paint. That struck you quite odd, considering you had never seen him without his paint before and you were sure he rarely went anywhere without it. His words were a garbled, blurred mess like they sometimes were in dreams. And something was blocking your vision, it looked grey and possibly made of rock? You weren't sure, but after a couple minutes of Gavin’s wordless singing, he began fishing around in his pocket. 

Before you could see what the object was, you were being shaken awake to the sound of your name. Rose gently had a firm grip on your shoulder, looking at you. You peeled your eyes open, yawning and sitting up. Kanya was already out of the car and Dave was holding his and Terri’s bags, one slung over each shoulder. You shuffle out of the vehicle and the lot of you are in a parking garage, and John’s blue pick-up was pulling in several spaces over. John emerges from the front seat, and Karter from the passenger. In the back loading deck, Gavin suddenly sits up and shakes his head, looking groggy and disoriented. You want to ask about the dream, you really do. He normally is pretty open to listening to your crazy dreams, and sometimes you think he’s the only one who believes you. Even Karter is skeptical. 

You make your way over to their truck, your arms wrapped around your bag so it was hugged close to your chest and you smile. “Hey guys!” 

Karter glances up like he hadn't noticed you, and flashes you a half grin. He always looks odd when he smiles, but it’s sort of cute. Cute Shrek. “Jade,” he greets, before quietly offering to carry your bag and you laugh and tell him to go be a gentleman elsewhere. 

“Well fucking gosh Jade!” He throws his hands up, like he just can’t win with you. “I try to be nice for two goddamn seconds and you can’t even accept that. I’m done, so done. You will be damned to a life of carrying your own bag for the rest of forever until your arms fall off.” 

“I wasn't aware that my arms were going to fall off,” you ponder aloud before thrusting your bag at him and it manages to hit him right in the gut, knocking the breath out of him. He grumbles and grips it after a moment. “There, better your arms than mine.” You wipe your hands together and thrust them into your skirt’s pockets. 

“When I’m growing up as a fucking potato because I can’t do anything without arms, I hope you will sit at my bedside to spoon feed me. Or at least put me out of my misery.” 

“It would definitely be the latter,” you joke. “I don’t have time to spoon feed you baby food for the rest of eternity. I plan on being a scientist, I could be out finding a cure for cancer or something.” 

“Oh so when you’re a hot shot smart person with a degree in every fucking thing known to man, you won’t have time for us little, armless people?” 

“Of course not.” You throw your hands up in fake exasperation. “I barely have time for you little people now as it is! You’re all holding me back, obviously.” 

“I’m truly fucking hurt, Jade.” Karter sighs and shakes his head as you make your way into the elevator. The others are trailing behind, and Karter is hitting the close button as fast as possible, as if trying to lock them out. He’s so impatient. You give him a kick in the shin to tell him that and he winces and shoots you a glare as the elevator doors close in front of Kanya’s stunned face. 

“Look, you almost chopped Kanya in half with the door.” You whine and he rolls his eyes. 

“It has like a motion thingy that won’t let it close if something is obstructing the space, Jade. Don’t be stupid.” 

“Yeah, yeah, Mr. Potato Head.” You roll your eyes as the elevator takes you straight on up to Dave’s floor, and the two of you exit. 

“Well shit, first I was Shrek and now I’m fucking Toy Story.” He sighs, stepping down the hall and he seems to be ignoring stepping on the small golden diamonds on the floor. It was like a little kid playing a game. You decide not to point it out, but to play too. It’s mildly entertaining, and Karter laughs when he notices you have caught on. 

“Me and Dave used to do that a lot when we were younger. Old habits die hard, I guess.” He grins and leans against the wall outside Dave’s door. It’s locked, and you don’t think Bro is home at this time of day. He usually is only home nights and mornings, according to Dave. You tap your foot and take your bag, digging around to make sure you had all of your homework. You finished most of it in your free period, but there were one or two questions that had stumped you. 

Karter pulls at the strings of his hoodie, twisting them and adjusting himself. He seems awkward and out of place, far too raw looking. It was hard to explain, but he reminded you of Dave without his shades. Karter was a mess of white hair and reddish-pink eyes. But when he looked to you, he looked vulnerable in the face. You could never explain it, but in the few instances you had seen Dave without his shades (and those were incredibly few and far between) you couldn't help but get the same feeling. 

“What the fuck is taking them so long?” Karter asks, looking like he caught you staring and felt a little uncomfortable. 

“Uh,” you glance back down the hall. “Well you did lock them out of the elevator and there are other people that use that one, so it’s your fault.” 

“Obviously.” He huffs and sinks to the ground, pulling his sleeves down his arms. He was constantly bundled up in his large hoodies and sweaters, even on the hottest of days. You sometimes wonder what he’s hiding, but you’re too afraid to ask. 

You decide to copy him, taking a seat outside of the door and picking at the little colorful bands around your fingers. You didn't like forgetting things, and after a moment, you pull some thread from your bag and tie a purple one around your pinky. You don’t want to forget to write that dream down. You give the carpet another long examination, before you finally hear footsteps and glance up. 

“Fucking rude, Vantas.” Dave scoffed and you hadn't even noticed he was standing next to you. He had always been light on his feet. Fiddling with his key ring, he unlocked the door and headed right on inside. Terri skipped after him, nearly tripping over you and you have to laugh. 

“Sorry,” you apologize and she says it isn't a problem. You move to your feet, John stopping to help you up and the rest of you file inside and do your normal routine like it was no big thing. Several of you raided the kitchen, a small line formed outside of the bathroom, and you all fought over who sat where. It was no use though, considering you always sat on the edge of the futon against the wall, Dave sat on the other side of the futon, John next to him and Karter closest to you. Gavin laid out on the floor, and if Veronica joined you, she sat on the back edge of the couch with her legs behind John’s back. Rose and Kanya sat on the floor, Rose usually closest to the smuppet pile and Kanya always looked wary when Rose leaned against it without a care. 

You take your usual seat, after a quick bathroom break and retrieving an orange from the kitchen. You dig your nails into it and peel it silently, pulling out a slice and munching on it. It’s tart, but you’re hungry and don’t mind too much anyway. 

“Where’s Jake?” You turn to John, who’s sitting down with three bags of chips and a two liter of Mountain Dew. 

“Dad’s taking him job hunting.” John shrugs as he fights with a bag of Doritos and ends up making them spill everywhere. He fishes around, shoving a handful in his mouth and slinking down into the couch. “He’s been complaining lately that he never has any money.” 

“That’s because he blows it all on stupid movies.” You point out, popping another orange slice in your mouth and turning so you could kick a Dorito and watch it skid through the air and into the wall before landing into a crumpled pile. 

John shrugs again and pops a stray chip into his mouth. You want to ask him if he knows how clean this futon is, but you decide it’s not worth arguing over. Karter and Gavin join you moments later, and Gavin plops right down on the floor, head at your feet. 

“Eyy, girly.” He smiles and grabs a hold of one of your socks and you laugh. “How you got to motherfuckin’ hangin’ as of late? Any new lil’ fantasies brewin’ up there in your smart lil’ noggin?” 

“Actually, yes.” You smile and kick at his hands when he tickles your feet. A lot of the people here don’t really like Gavin, especially Dave and Kanya. Rose is quite fond of him, along with yourself and Karter. “I fell asleep in the car and dreamed about you.” 

“Ew.” John points out and you roll your eyes after throwing what was left of your orange at him and he caught it after it fumbled in his fingers for a moment. 

“Not that kind of dream!” You sigh and look back to Gavin. “You were playing your guitar, just sitting in the grass and dirt and mumbling a lot. I couldn't really pinpoint where you were, but it was sunny out.” You shrug and he looks like he’s deep in thought. 

“Shit, girly.” He blinks and lets go of your foot, folding his arms under his head. “What was I playing?” 

“Dunno,” you shrug. “It sounded really familiar, though. If I heard it again, I’d know it.” You stare down at him and he squints like he’s thinking too hard. Karter tells him to stop it before he blows a gasket in his brain, and Gavin laughs and steals his shoe. 

“So what do we normally do around here?” Terri asks as Rose walks her into the room, Dave and Kanya trailing behind the two of them. 

“Play video games, scrounge our money together to buy takeout for dinner, goof off.” John answers and Dave takes a seat. “Dude, where’s your girlfriend gonna sit?” 

“That’s okay!” Terri says as she falls into Dave’s lap and he looks surprised but appeased. “I have no problem turning people into chairs.” She leans back on Dave and seems to make herself comfortable. “Is this like a daily thing?” 

“Nope! Just Mondays.” You rest your heel in Gavin’s hair and he laughs. “Mondays usually are pretty sucky for everyone, so this lightens the spirits and gives us all something to look forward to.” Karter takes your example and turns Gavin’s chest into his own personal ottoman. Gavin, who is just Gavin, does not mind. He even seems pleased and you wonder how anyone can dislike him as much as some of your friends do. 

“Well let’s get started?” John offers as he looks to Rose. “I’m so going to kick your ass at DBZ this time around.” 

“Yeah right,” Rose grins and makes her way to the gaming system, setting everything up. “Android 18 hasn't lost one match to you, Mr. picks Piccolo every single time.” 

They’re both wrong. Vegeta obviously beats everyone. 

___________________________________________________________

**Pesterlog Excerpts:**

\--pipefan413 [pipefan413] has started pestering golgothasTerror [GT]--  
pipefan413: ARE YOU READY TO BE PICKED UP YET?  
GT: You bet your chaps i am!  
pipefan413: I DO NOT OWN ANY CHAPS.  
GT: It’s just an expression dad.  
pipefan413: THEN I LIKE IT.  
pipefan413: I AM SO PROUD OF YOUR BROAD SPECTRUM OF EXPRESSIONS EVEN IF I DO NOT UNDERSTAND THEM ALL.  
GT: *scratches back of neck*  
GT: Uh, thanks i guess.  
GT: Anyway.  
GT: Did you find any openings?  
pipefan413: YES.  
pipefan413: SEVERAL SHOPS IN THE MALL.  
GT: Egad.  
GT: The mall?  
GT: I guess it’s better than nothing.  
pipefan413: I AM ALMOST TO THE SCHOOL. MEET ME OUTSIDE.  
GT: Got it!  
pipefan413 [pipefan413] continues to be so proud of golgothasTerror [ GT ]--

\--twimArmegoddons [ TA ] started pestering apocalypseArisen [ AA ]--  
TA: well 2hiit.  
TA: twoday wa2 iintere2tiing.  
AA: i rather like terri  
AA: she’s funny 0u0  
TA: yeah.  
TA: ii thiink veroniica took a liikiing two her a2 well.  
AA: oh  
AA: well that isnt good  
TA: you can 2ay that agaiin.  
AA: well that isnt good  
TA: ii wa2n’t 2eriious aa.  
AA: haha!  
AA: i was only yanking your chain salem  
AA: dont be such a wet rag   
TA: ii wa2 beiing 2arca2tiic okay ii never take anythiing you 2ay 2eriiou2ly.  
AA: well thats rude  
AA: veronicas mom seemed to like her too  
AA: at least  
AA: more than she likes most of her students  
TA: 2ound2 two me liike 2he’2 already a trouble magnet.   
AA: arent all of our friends like that?  
TA: you can 2ay that agaiin.  
TA: don’t you dare.  
AA: darnit

 

\--arachnidsGrip [ AG ] started pestering articulateRaconteur [ AR ]--  
AG: Uh, hello!!!!!!!!  
AG: Did mom t8ke you to the doctors yet?  
AG: She was supposed to come pick me up!  
AR: Oh gosh.  
AG: You guys forgot me, didn’t you??  
AG: UGH!  
AG: This always happens.  
AR: I am so sorry.  
AR: Let me get mom.  
AR: I’ll pitch a fit for you, okay?  
AG: Don’t worry.  
AG: Mom will be getting hell from me.  
AG: Lots of hell.  
AR: She’s had a hard day.  
AG: News flash.  
AG: I DON’T C8RE.  
AR: Veronica.  
AG: Alexis.  
AR: Mom wouldn’t have to come pick you up if you hadn’t crashed your car.  
AG: I wouldn’t have crashed my car if it wasn’t a piece of shit in the first place!!!!!!!!  
AG: I can’t w8it for the damn thing to 8e fixed already!  
AG: I can’t stand spending two minutes alone with that shrew.  
AG: I’m not coming home.  
AG: 8ye.  
\--arachnidsGrip [ AG ] ceased pestering articulateRaconteur [ AR ]--

\--articulateRaconteur [ AR ] started pestering arachnidsGrip [ AG ]--  
AR: Where are you even going to go?  
\--arachnidsGrip [ AG ] has blocked articulateRaconteur [ AR ]--

\--caligulasAquarium [CA] started pestering jiltedJitterbug [JJ]--  
CA: you knoww shes mine  
CA: if you hurt her i wwill fuckin end you  
\--caligulasAquarium [CA] ceased pestering jiltedJitterbug [JJ]--

\--rivetingSuccubus [ RS ] began pestering inoffensiveAdvisor [ IA ]--  
RS: When yo+u said yo+u changed yo+ur handle I never expected so+mething so+ co+mical.  
IA: Rimma.  
IA: I take 9ffense t9 that statement.  
RS: I’m so+rry.  
IA: Are y9u really?  
RS: No+.  
IA: I sh9uld 9f expected as much.  
IA: F9r s9me9ne wh9 is 9ffended s9 much by s9ciety, y9u are a maj9r hyp9crite.  
RS: O+nly when it co+mes to+ yo+u.  
RS: I wo+uld take anyo+ne else’s feelings into+ co+nsideratio+n.  
IA: It’s nice t9 kn9w that I am special.  
RS: O+h yo+u’re definitely special.  
IA: Let’s skip the h9stilities, Maryam.  
IA: I do+ no+t want you attending the rally this weekend.  
RS: No+t this again.  
RS: Kevvy, I have to+ld yo+u time and time again.  
RS: I have to+ go+.  
RS: I have rights and I am go+ing to+ fight fo+r them.  
IA: Rimma, I understand where y9u are c9ming fr9m.  
IA: Just let me explain t9 y9u s9mething.  
IA: It’s danger9us. Y9u are already a targeted victim 9f hate crimes 6ecause of y9ur nati9nality.   
IA: Thr9wing y9urself 9ut there is danger9us.  
RS: No+ o+ffense, but I do+ no+t care.  
RS: It’s an anti-rape rally and I am go+ing to+ happily attend it.  
IA: I f9rbid it.  
RS: Sto+p pretending to+ be my fucking mo+ther Kevin.  
RS: Did yo+u kno+w that every two+ minutes, so+meo+ne in the U.S. is sexually assaulted?  
RS: 207, 754.  
RS: Do+ yo+u kno+w what that number means?  
RS: That’s o+n average ho+w many peo+ple are victim o+f sexual assault a year.   
RS: 54% o+f tho+se incidents are never repo+rted to+ po+lice and 97% percent o+f rapists never spend a single day in jail.   
IA: Rimma, I mean n9 9ffense when I say this.  
IA: I really d9n’t care ab9ut rape.  
IA: The 9nly thing I care ab9ut in this current situation is y9ur well-being.  
RS: Kevin, I mean no+ o+ffense when I say this.  
RS: I am go+ing to+ do+ whatever the hell I want.  
RS: No+ matter what yo+u say.

\--transcendentGangster [ TG ] started pestering articulateRaconteur [ AR ]--  
TG: ey  
TG: gill how you feelin  
AR: Oh, much 8etter.  
AR: The doctor is sure it’s just a simple cold.  
AR: Which as you can assume was quite the relief.  
AR: Last night I was sure that fever was going to krill me!  
TG: krill eee  
TG: 38D  
AR: Hehe.  
TG: you missed it tho serket  
TG: new gill is straight up craysea  
TG: p sure i almost broke a finger clapping her hand  
AR: There’s a new girl?  
TG: some weird asian lookin beach  
TG: she carped too fuckin much  
AR: What’s her name?  
TG: lulu  
AR: She doesn’t sound too 8ad. I mean, if you didn’t like people who talked too much, why would we 8e friends?  
TG: ok  
TG: you got a point  
TG: i think she thinks were fronds  
TG: dunno  
TG: maybe she just whined a lot bcuz shes new  
AR: Pro8a8ly. She was most likely nervous. Remem8er, I was the new kid once.  
TG: yeah we were also what  
TG: like six  
AR: I 8elieve so.  
AR: You wouldn’t let me in the sand 8ox 8ecause it was yours.  
AR: And my 8a8y sister got mad when you made me cry and she kicked your castle over.  
TG: hahahah shit  
TG: fuckin veronica  
TG: an asshoal if i ever seen one  
TG: gillarious tho  
TG: i was shell shocked you threw sand at me when i swung at her  
AR: To think, we 8onded over violence.  
TG: and it worked  
TG: even if youre a huge doofish  
TG: youre adorabubble as fuck  
AR: Thank you. ::::)

___________________________________________________________

**Lulu:**

You take a seat in the bottommost section of the ramp and lay back, Mitt plopping down next to you. The sun is setting, a melody of pinks and purples coloring the sky like the gradient flavors of rainbow sherbet. You sigh happily and he hands you his water bottle, and you slurp down a mouthful without care and set it between you. It’s warm, the mosquitoes making their way into the air and every now and then, dusting over your skin in the most annoying of ways. Your legs are mostly bare, so they’re going to town and you have to kick at them reflexively. It’s not too bad though, especially when Mitt slides his arm under your head and pulls you a bit closer. 

The two of you spend the next couple of minutes just staring at the darkening sky, finding the first star and making your wishes, and laughing and swatting at one another. It’s a long couple of minutes before you become aware that some of Mitt’s friends haven’t returned home yet, and you sit up and look to them, over on the bench.

A boy and a girl, the boy tall and lanky with a skeleton print shirt and a mess of locks over a painted face. The girl had a curly mess of ginger locks and was pale skinned, lost in her notebook and smiling away like there was no evil in the world. “Hey, either of you know what time it is?” You call, and the dark haired boy looks up and finds him phone, making a bunch of random hand symbols in your direction and you blink in confusion.

“He said it’s 7: 29. Place closes right about now.” Mitt answers you and sits up as well. “He’s mute, she’s deaf. Sign language is kind of a must.” He chuckles and shrugs, moving to his feet. “You want a ride home? We pass your place on the way to mine anyway.”

“Sure.” You smile and gather your stuff, peeling your helmet off and walking along side him as he waved for the other two. 

“That’s Kurlock,” he points out to the dark haired one who was petting back the ginger’s hair affectionately, “and that’s Marguerite.” You give a nod and Mitt’s hand rests on the small of your back and you don’t mind in the slightest. The four of you walk over the rocky dirt path, through the trees and down the road for a minute or so before finding a small parking lot with a ratty old grey pick-up with a bike in the back. 

Kurlock opens his door and pulls his seat forward to expose the small three seats in the back and you and Mitt climb in, Marguerite taking the passenger side and within moments you are going down the road. It’s nice, and you sit back and relax in your seat, your board tucked under your feet and your helmet resting in your lap.

You find Mitt’s hand scooting closer and closer to your’s and by the time you’re back in the actually populated parts of town, your fingers are intertwined and it’s sweet bliss. You wonder if this is what those girls in movies feel like. Like they had known this person their entire life even though they just met them. 

Kurlock changes music stations and ends up on some station playing 90s music and you can’t help but sing along to every word and it’s even better when Mitt gets into it. You guys are like the worst duet the world’s probably ever heard, but you’re both smiling like idiots and that’s all that matters.

Marguerite turns to you and smiles, waving eagerly and you smile back. “Hi!!” She squeals, and it’s more like a screech. She’s incredibly loud, but you don’t mind too much. You tend to use your outdoor voice more often as well. 

“Hey!” You smile and put your hand up for a high-five and she returns it without hesitation. Deaf or not, you like her an awful lot already. You've grown up around disabilities, and have one of your own, so it’s easy to accommodate her. She’s rather good at reading lips though, so that makes you believe she wasn't always deaf. 

Kurlock pokes her shoulder gently and she looks around, before noticing that the car was parked in front of a small suburban home. She grinned wide and turned to wave at the two of you in the back, before placing a quick kiss on Kurlock’s cheek and jumping out of the car, bounding down the sidewalk to be greeted by a tall Native American looking guy with a ponytail. 

You sink more into your seat, playfully squeezing Mitt’s fingers and tapping your feet. “So, do you have a Pesterchum?” You inquire and he looks up, nodding and breaking out a Sharpie. He scribbles his on your arm, and you give it a quick glance--  dauntlessTelekinetic \-- and grin. “I’ll IM you later.” You tell him and he nods and it’s actually really nice. Normally, you don’t dive to some guy’s feet, eager to date them, but he was different. There was just something about him that made your brain go blank and your palms feel clammy. It’s like you knew each other in some past life or another alien universe or something. But the latter sounds dumb and probably highly unlikely.

The ride home is too short for your liking, but it’s nice just sitting in almost silence and nearly drifting off. Mitt rubs the back of your hand with his thumb and and gently shakes you once your building is in view. You give him a quick kiss on the cheek and he smirks a bit and you can’t help but grin as you get out of the car. You wave to Kurlock and he sends a smile your way. Watching them drive off, you sigh and realize you left your board in the car. Oh well, you’ll just message Mitt later and ask him to bring it to you tomorrow. 

The elevator music is droll and you get stuck with some old lady who decides to strike up a long conversation about her youth and how lovely flowers smelt. You really don’t like flowers sometimes. You are so thankful when you have to excuse yourself onto your floor, and it takes all your will not to bound down the hallway and away from her. She smiles and calls you sweetie and waves and you try to be polite. Once you are back in your own living room, you can’t help but feel relieved.

Terri is on the couch, freshly showered and in her nighties. You join her, petting Pyralsprite who was sprawled over the floor at your feet. His tail wags, repeatedly bumping Terri in the leg and she laughs.

“How was your first day?” She asks, leaning down to grip the large lab and yank him up into her lap. You will never understand how her thin little arms can manage that.

“P good. But man, teachers were a DRAG.” You put a tad too much emphasis on that word and kick your freshly bared feet onto the coffee table. “Met a boy, though. You?”

“Hmmm,” she hums aloud and runs her nails through Pyral’s hair and sinks into his warmth, letting the dog lick her face. “About the same. I met a few, though.” She suddenly grins and turns to look in your direction, and you can’t understand why she looks so smug. 

She picks up the dog, standing this time and carefully making her way into the small hallway that led to your bedrooms. “A few what?” You call, but she doesn't answer. You hear her door close, and you sigh. She’s so fucking weird sometimes.

You break out your phone, and after some fiddling you add Mitt to your list of contacts. His name is greyed out, so you know he’s not online. You message him anyway.

\--anosmicRadical [ AR ] began pestering dauntlessTelekinetic [ DT ]--  
AR: h3y!!  
AR: 1t’s lulu 1f you couldn’t t3ll!  
AR: h3y so 1 th1nk 1 l3ft my bo4rd 1n th3 b4ck of kurlock’z truck.  
AR: s1lly of m3 1 know.  
AR: th1nk you could br1ng 1t to th1s h3r3 r4d gurl at skool??  
AR: th4t would b3 tot4lly r4d1c4l!  
AR: you’r3 not onl1n3, though.  
AR: so 1’m gonn4 just log off and h34d to b3d.  
AR: N1GHT!  
\--anosmicRadical [ AR ] ceased pestering dauntlessTelekinetic [ DT ]--

You sigh and smile, tucking your phone away and making your way back to bed. You’ll shower in the morning, you decide, even if you feel sweaty and kinda gross. Stripping, you crawl into bed and make yourself comfortable. You really like Mitt.

You fall asleep after several minutes of silence, sunken deep in your mattress. You really, really look forward to skating with Mitt some more tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i still track the tags for this story on tumblr, not the lofam tag because as i said that stands for the land of fans and music so if you want me to look at something or read an idea you had or see fanart, tag it "tlofam"  
> also if there are any typos/quirk errors feel free to let me know!


	3. Skittles and Starlight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had to get rid of the symbols in equius' and nepeta's quirks because they wouldn't code properly. oops.

**Karter:**

\--carcinoGeneticist [ CG ] started pestering terminallyCapricious [ TC ]--  
CG: MEET ME AT MEGIDO’S IN TWENTY MINUTES.  
TC: sHiT.  
TC: i’Ll TrY.  
CG: WHAT DO YOU MEAN TRY?  
TC: lOcKeD iN mY rOoM cUrReNtLy.  
CG: WELL FUCK  
CG: YOU HAVE A WINDOW.  
TC: It's a lOnG MoThErFuCkIn fAlL, bEsT FrIeNd.  
TC: I'Ll tRy iT ThOuGh.  
TC: LeT Me gEt mY ShIt tOgEtHeR.  
CG: I HATE YOUR DAD.  
TC: NaH MaN.  
TC: He's jUsT StReSsEd.  
TC: BeInG A PaReNt iS AbOuT As hArD As sHiT GeTs.  
TC: EvErYoNe nEeDs tHeIr oWn sTrEsS BaLl eVeRy nOw aNd tHeN If yOu gEt wHaT I'M SaYiNg.  
CG: NO I DO NOT *GET* WHAT YOU ARE SAYING.  
CG: I AM DOING EXACTLY THE OPPOSITE OF THAT.  
CG: IF HE NEEDS A STRESS BALL SO FUCKING BAD HE SHOULD GO TO HOME DEPOT AND PURCHASE ONE.  
CG: AND GET IT THROUGH HIS HEAD THAT YOUR OWN FUCKING KID IS NOT A STRESS BALL.  
CG: I FUCKING HATE STRESS BALLS AND I DON’T QUITE HATE YOU AS MUCH AS I SHOULD.  
CG: SO THERE’S NO WAY IN HELL YOU’RE AN ACTUAL STRESS BALL.  
TC: DaMn, MoThErFuCkEr.  
TC: NeVeR WoUlD'Ve fIgUrEd tHaT OuT AlL Up aNd oN My oWn.  
TC: WaS StArTiNg tO GeT My rUbBeR On.  
CG: I CAN’T TELL IF YOU’RE MAKING A SHITTY METAPHOR OR PUTTING ON A CONDOM.  
TC: HeH.  
TC: WhAtEvEr yOu wAnT Me tO Be dOiNg bRoThEr.  
TC: MaN He fInAlLy sToPpEd bAnGiNg oN ThE DoOr aT LeAsT.  
TC: MoThErFuCkIn fAbUlOuS.  
CG: HOLY FUCK ON A STICK HE’S BEEN BANGING ON YOUR DOOR THIS WHOLE TIME?  
CG: AND YOU’RE JUST SITTING HERE TALKING TO ME.  
CG: YOU FUCKING IDIOT.  
CG: GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER RIGHT NOW .  
CG: AND CLIMB DOWN YOUR GODDAMN DRAIN PIPE AND MEET ME AT MEGIDO’S.  
CG: YOU’RE SPENDING THE NIGHT AT MY PLACE TONIGHT.  
CG: I DON’T GIVE A SHIT IF YOUR DAD IS MAD ABOUT IT.  
CG: HE CAN MARCH HIS SORRY ASS DOWN TO MY PLACE AND SUCK MY DICK AND I STILL WOULDN’T LET HIM TAKE YOU BACK TONIGHT.  
TC: Ew.  
TC: FiNe mAn.  
TC: ShOuLd i bRiNg tHe bOnG?  
CG: I DON’T GIVE A FUCK IF YOU BRING YOUR ENTIRE FUCKING PLANT.  
CG: HELL, BRING THE ENTIRE DRUG UNDERWORLD.  
CG: AND YOUR BEDROOM WHILE WE’RE AT IT.  
CG: WE’LL JUST SHOVE IT TOGETHER WITH MINE.  
CG: YOU HAVE TO GET RID OF THOSE FUCKING POSTERS THOUGH.  
CG: I SWEAR I DON’T KNOW HOW YOU CAN STAND TO GET OFF WITH THEM WATCHING.  
CG: THEY LOOK LIKE SOMETHING THAT CRAWLED OUT OF SATAN’S ASSHOLE AND TOOK AN ACID BATH.  
CG: AND THEN LET DAMARA AT THEM WITH A BROOM.  
TC: Oh dAmN.  
TC: DrAmA MaMa gOt a gOoD LiL SwInG On hEr.  
TC: MoThErFuCkIn kNoCk a bItCh oUt iF ShE NeEdS To.  
CG: DO YOU THINK SHE’D MURDER SOMEONE?  
TC: DuNnO.  
TC: wHy?  
CG: FUCK HER SO SHE’LL KILL YOUR DAD.  
TC: NaH.  
TC: i’Ll FuCk HeR aNyWaY tHoUgH.  
CG: GROSS.  
CG: OKAY GET OUT OF YOUR HOUSE NOW.  
CG: STOP TALKING TO ME YOU IDIOT.  
TC: gOt It.  
\--terminallyCapricious [ TC ] has ceased pestering carcinogeneticist [ CG ]--

You swear that asshole could be a fucking kicked puppy. You can’t even look him in the eye without feeling enough pity that your stomach aches and your eyeballs swell. You’re so fucking dedicated to this doofus you’re sure it’s unhealthy on every level but you can never make yourself care enough to do anything about it.

Sighing, you shut your computer and tuck it away into your backpack. It’s falling apart at the seams and you really need a new one. You idly wonder if you can snag a job at Staples or Target in the mall and get one cheap. Walking to work after school sounds miserable though, especially in this heat. You consider letting Kevin drive you, but decide that the heat was much more welcome than your brother’s company. 

You gave your bag another glance over, making sure everything was tucked inside before pushing your way out your door. Once you’re down your hall and into the living room, you hear your mom call you from the kitchen and you sigh. Making your way in, you notice a glass in her hand and an inch of dark brown liquid that reeked of bourbon in the bottom. “Yeah?”

“Your father called,” she stated and shrugged. “Said he wants to plan when you guys want to come up and see him.” She took another drag of her cigarette before putting it out in the ashtray. “Has another one of those church whatever's coming up. Kev and you like those, right?”

“Yeah, when I was like five.” You point out and pull at the strings of your hoodie. “Besides, how the fuck are we supposed to even go down there? He knows Kevin can’t dish out the gas money for that again.”

“For what?” You turn as your brother leans on the archway that separated the kitchen and the living room. His usual large sweater was in place, along with his straight leg pants and boots. It’s like he strives to cover as much of his body as possible. You can’t object, considering you do the same. But you burn easily, he doesn’t.

“Dad wants you guys to come visit.” Your mom says again as she downs what’s in her glass and twists it in her fingers. She’s not drunk yet, but drinking this fucking early in the morning was ridiculous. And it was so _her_. 

Kevin sighed loudly, running his fingers through his curls and messing them up. He doesn’t wash his hair enough, you think. You rather enjoy it when Rimma drags him back here and shampoos him until his scalp feels raw. Especially when she does it in the kitchen sink. The Maryam’s were a constant, always in and out of your house and vice versa. Your parents had been friends for as long as you could remember and you had always liked Rimma and Kanya.

“Maybe I can get an advance in this month’s pay. Or father could dish out the money for us for once.” He offered, swallowing and crossing his arms. “He seems to assume since we are upper-middle class that we can always afford everything that seems leisurely but he is quite mistaken. I have had this conversation with him on numerous occasions, trying to break down the economical assumptions of society and the stereotypes that most people seem to bide by. He’s so stubborn, it seems. I might have to bring along several charts tracking the prices of gas and how they fluctuate over different time periods. Plus and a copy of our bills and receipts for good measure.” He seemed to be lost in thought, before opening his mouth to continue. Your mom wasn’t going to stand for that.

“Kev, darling.” She said quietly and he looked up in reply. “Please, just shut up and go pick up your girlfriend.”

“She is not my girlfriend.” He defended.

“Take your brother with you.”

“Oh fuck no.” You intervene, shaking your head. “I have plans for the morning, I am not darting off to school like Mr. Bright-And-Fucking-Early over here. I’m meeting up with Gavin.”

“Well, Kev can drive you, can’t you Kevin?” She turned to him and smiled. “Rimma lives down that way, doesn’t she?”

Your brother sighs and waves his hand for you to follow, before stopping. “Oh gosh, using hand gestures like you’re an animal. I apologize if any of that triggered you in any way. I will have to remind myself that we are not barbaric and that we do have a language present in our culture.” 

You bend your neck to either side, cracking the bones gently while you follow, rather reluctantly, after your brother. “Everytime you open your mouth I want to pull a trigger, that’s for sure.” You mutter under your breath.

“What was that?” He turns to glance to you.

“I didn’t say anything.” You reply with a fake grin and he nods like he totally bought that. What a fucking idiot. You sigh, following him as the two of you made your way out to the car. He moves to sit in the front, and you go to the passengers when he stops you. “What the fuck is wrong now?” You wonder as you’re half in the car, half out of it.

“Well,” he starts, “that’s Rimma’s seat.”

“So?”

“Well, I mean, you should sit in the back so she can sit where she always does.”

You stare at him, before glancing to the back seat of his car which was a mess of papers and coffee cups. “You’re completely fucking serious.” You state blankly and he nods. Sighing, you move back and slam the door. His car is the ugliest shade of grey that has ever had the misfortune of crossing your line of sight. He refuses to change it though, considering anything else would be far too distracting for his tastes. You and Rimma have contemplated changing the color of it while he sleeps, but it hasn’t happened. Yet. Finally you yank the back door open and push the mess out of the way so you can sit. With all this evidence in front of you, you could hypothesize that your brother lives at Starbucks when he’s not home. 

Buckling in, he starts the car and pulls out of the driveway, heading down the road at what happens to be exactly the speed limit, according to the speedometer. It takes the two of you no time at all to pull up in front the Maryam’s place, and he tells you to stay there like you’re a fucking child and you’re going to run off and cause mayhem. You almost consider it, just to piss him off. 

He wanders up to the front door, knocking a couple times and waiting. He looks like he’s whistling, and you know he’s an idiot. His whole celibate nonsense is bullshit. You had accidentally walked in on him getting busy with himself on more than one occasion. You don’t even consider opening his door anymore. 

You wish Rimma would hurry the fuck up, considering you have to meet up with Gavin and spending anymore time with your dumbfuck brother would probably make your jugular pop right out of your neck. You watch the door finally open and close right away, Rimma ducking out. Okay, even you have to admit, she’s fucking hot. Tall-- taller than Kevin but not nearly Gavin’s height-- and hippy. She was mostly legs, a thin waist and a pretty face to top it all off. Dark mocha skin and deep green eyes, plus the majority of her outfits showed off a nice bit of cleavage and Kevin always gave you this look when he caught you sneaking a peek. 

The two of them make it to the car, her walking in front of him. He seemed to be studying her outfit, shaking his head in disapproval. You think she looks nice. She smiles when she sees you, ducking into the car and waving. “Hey!” She buckles in and turns to face you.

“Hey Rim.” You wave and sigh. “Why do you let this babbling buffoon drive you around?”

“Can’t afford a car yet.” She shrugs and grins. “Plus he buys me Starbucks.” She jokes and watches Kevin get into the car. 

“Starbucks is the worst fucking excuse of a coffee company I have ever had the horrible misfortune of even tasting.”

“Does that mean you’d rather stop by Dunkin’ Donuts? Kevvy, you heard the man!” Rimma laughed and settled into her seat, kicking her feet up on the dashboard.

“Rimma, for one, I just cleaned that. And for two, that’s dangerous. If we were in an accident right now, you could lose your legs or break your hips.”

“The maybe men would stop pawing at me when I don’t want them too.” She defended, shooting your brother a look and putting her legs down. It was dangerous, afterall. Gavin often did that whenever his brother was driving the two of you someplace and you’d have to pitch a royal fit to get him to stop.

“Maybe they’d stop ‘pawing’ at you if you dressed appropriately.” He threw in and you could tell her was just sinking himself into deeper and deeper waters.

Huffing, she sat up straight and turned to look at him. “It’s my body and I can wear whatever I want.”

“Clothes come with consequences, Rimma. That’s why there are dress codes.”

“I understand dress codes, Kevin. For the most part anyway. But you know that in a rape case, asking the woman what she was wearing is a question that is almost always asked. Just because a woman is wearing something doesn’t mean she was asking for it. Clothes do not equal consent. Nor does the lack of them.”

“If you really didn’t want people all over you then you wouldn’t sleep with everybody who asked.” Kevin stated finally.

He pulls up to a red light, stopping and sighing. You hear the undoing of a buckle and you look up just as Rimma opens the door and steps out. And down the street she goes, walking.

“Good fucking job, genius.” You groan and sink into your seat. You’re tempted to text Gavin that you’ll be a couple minutes late and for him to order without you. Your egg rolls would be cold by then, though.

“Rimma!” He calls before getting out of the car as well and chasing after her.

“We are in the middle of the fucking road!” You call after him and move into the front seat. You have never driven a car in your entire life. It can’t be too hard. As the light turns green, you gently hit the gas and the car jerks forward a bit before you yank your foot back in fear. Fuck no, fuck this. Fuck everything. That was the most terrifying shit you have ever done and there’s no way in hell you’re ever doing that again. Fuck to the no. You fold your arms and sigh and after a moment send Gavin a quick message--  HOLY FUCKING SHIT I AM SURROUNDED BY IDIOTS. TWENTY MINUTES WILL BECOME TWENTY GODDAMN DAYS AT THIS PACE. I AM GOING TO FLIP THIS FUCKING CAR LIKE A SCENE STRAIGHT OUT OF THE INCREDIBLE HULK AND SCREECH IN THE MOST UNFASHIONABLE MANNER. I HOPE THEY BOTH GET HIT BY A BUS AND THAT KNOCKS SOME SENSE INTO THEM.\-- which roughly translates into ‘yeah I’m going to be late.’

The car behind you is honking. You stick a hand out the window and flip them the bird. If you were in Gavin’s part of town, you probably would’ve been shot for that. And you continue to sit still, until Kevin comes back, sighing in what looks like defeat and you slide into the passenger seat. He sits down, frowning and starting down the road. 

“Girls were never your strong suit.” You offer and his shoulders sag.

“She just, kept walking. She’s so strong willed it’s beyond ridiculous. What did I even say that made her so mad? She wouldn’t listen to anything I said.”

“Kevin, you called her a slut again. That’s what the fuck you did wrong. Now Dunkin’ Donuts is right up there if you can just turn-- Wow fuck you missed it you everloving piece of garbage.”

“But I didn’t even use that term, Karter. She knows I’d never call her that.”

“I’m pretty sure saying she’ll sleep with anyone who asks directly translates to hey you’re a fucking slut now have a nice day and take Karter to Dunkin’ motherfucking Donuts before he has to go eat shit Chinese food with a stoner and walk to school.”

“I really wish she’d stop jumping to conclusions. She knows I don’t mean half of what I say to her.” And there he goes, continuing to ramble on like he hadn’t even heard you. “It’s cold outside and it’s starting to rain. She’s going to get sick.”

You sit back and let him ramble on and on like a whining idiot. You want to light a cigarette and stick it in each ear so it’ll burn out your eardrums and you will be done listening to this asshole who had his own ego so far up his ass he can only worry about his own goddamn problems.

It takes you another thirty minutes to make it to the Megido’s place, and you had to listen to Kevin’s babbling the entire time. You slam the door and grab your bag and he’s still going. You imagine he’ll talk to himself the entire way to school and so on.

Marching up the rocky asphalt, you finally get under the shelter of the blinking neon sign that was some dumb Chinese word you had no interest in pronouncing. You didn’t even know if these fuckers were even Chinese for that matter. It was just a dumb little two story, restaurant downstairs, house upstairs. Just Aran DIa and Damara and their mother you rarely ever fucking saw. You get inside the little joint and it smells of oil and soy sauce. The colors are mostly reds and golds, the walls freshly painted and decorated up sweetly with dim lights and the most uncomfortable chairs known to man. Being poor and owning shit must suck ass.

You spot Gavin at your usual spot. Next to the counter was a wall that went back into a hallway, the bathrooms at the back and along that hall were tables. He was in the one closest to the kitchen door and stairway. You sit down and he laughs.

“Motherfuckin’ late as fuck.” He jokes and takes a sip from the straw of a cup. You assume it’s water. That stuff is a quarter for a large cup here. He knocks on the kitchen door and Damara peeks out after a moment. “Ey drama mama,” he starts and one of her thick eyebrows raises. “Another water, make it duo this time. That’s like, some language or whatever.”

She points down the hall and he gives a quiet ‘huh?’. “Order.” She says, her accent thick and Asian. “Order at counter.”

“Damara, we both fucking know you speak English perfectly.” You sigh, exasperated and not in the mood. You two had to be at school in forty-five minutes and it was a long walk.

“Order at counter.” She repeats and you push to your feet and march around to the goddamn counter. She’s not even there, and you ring the bell five times before she slowly makes her way up to the counter. She hands you a menu and you circle your normal order. At the top of the menu, you write, “KARTER FUCKING VANTAS, YOU KNOW, THE ASSHOLE WHO’S HERE ALL THE TIME. JUST DON’T SERVE ME ANY FUCKING CAT.”

You stomp back to your seat and plop down. Gavin is drinking a fresh water and you have a cup sitting at your seat. Along with another fucking menu. Bitch. You watch Gavin sip away, and you realize he probably drinks more water than a fucking sink drain. Always dehydrated and after four cups, Damara usually stops charging.

“We’re going to be fucking late.” You point out and take a long drink, sighing.

“Nah,” he waves his hand like it’s not big deal, “Kurlock is gonna swing by here and pick us the motherfuck up.”

You stare at him blankly and groan. “You could’ve told me that earlier.” You point out and he shrugs. You open your cup and chuck an ice cube at him. He grins and knocks it off his shoulder without a care in the world. You’re pretty sure he’s high again. Hell, Damara probably is too. Maybe even Aran Dia. Everyone is high as pre-pubescent balls besides you.

Damara is out within minutes, setting your containers on the counter and dropping forks and napkins and sauce packets. She rambles something in Japanese and ducks back into the kitchen. 

“Any clue what she said?” You ask as you open a container of steaming hot shrimp fried rice and pop a spoonful into your mouth.

“Beats me.” He shrugs and picks at his lo mein. It’s peaceful, really. Quiet with the sound of cooking in the background and the occasional ding of the doorbell. Honestly, you like these moments with Gavin, where you don’t have to listen to his stupid rambling and the two of you can just sit together. These are the moments you remember when you lay your head down at night. 

After several minutes of quiet nibbling, he wraps his up and sets it aside. He always eats so little, you’ve noticed. Probably why he’s so fucking thin. He sighs and lays his face down on his arms and yawns and you realize he probably hasn’t slept. You watch him, spooning another mouthful and chewing, before reaching out and petting his hair back. “Any new ones?”

“Nasty as fuck one on my side.” He mutters into his arms and deflates. He looks so tired you want to wrap him up and let him sleep in your bed for the rest of fucking forever. You take another couple bites and stand.

“Come on, let’s go to the bathroom.” You motion for him and he slowly sits up and shakes his messy locks around before standing and following behind you at your flank. Once in the bathroom, you lock the door behind the two of you and slowly start picking at his hoodie and shirt. His clothes are old and worn and you’re pretty sure most of what he’s wearing are Kurlock’s old duds. Sighing, you pull his shirt up and almost wince. Along his rib cage-- which was too fucking visible for your liking-- was a darkening brownish-purple bruise. A few along his side as well. You gently touch them, running your fingers down to his hip and sighing. “I fucking hate your dad.” You tell him again, but this time he’s quiet. 

He leans down a bit, arms wounding around you and just holding you for a little while. It’s nice, even if he holds you a little too tight and you hold him a little too loose. He places a kiss on the top of your head and once again you’re at a loss for what the two of you even are. You don’t think he’s sure either. 

You don’t want to fall in love with Gavin Makara. You don’t want him to be your one and only and you sure as hell don’t want to plan a wedding with the dumbfuck. But sometimes, you think the two of you might just continue like this for the rest of forever. Snuggling more than any friends should, touching more, exploring more. What you have is unexplainable in so many ways, that no titles really fit it. You needed it, you needed him so desperately and you hated it. But he needed you too, you think. You could never be sure what he was thinking. Best friends? You used to think that worked. Best friends with benefits? Well fuck there were plenty of goddamn benefits but you spent too much time crying over this asshole to count them. 

After several minutes of snuggling, you gently push him away and worm yourself out of the small bathroom. He follows and he’s smiling, not his half-baked-nothing-hurts grin, his genuinely happy grin. Damara is walking past your table and she shoots you a pointed look, before whispering, “gay” and walking away. You are tempted to beat her with a broom. 

You both take your seats and start picking dollar bills out of your pocket and counting your endless supply of pennies until you both have enough money. You put it in a small pile in the middle of the table and continue to pick at your food. Gamzee’s pocket makes a noise and he pulls out his cracked up iPod. It’s his brother’s old one, you believe. Gavin doesn’t have a phone, so he usually texts and shit from that. “Bro’s gonna get his ass to bein’ here in five.” He mutters and picks at the untouched eggrolls, picking the innards out of one and chewing on the outer skin. He’s lucky the innards are your favorite part, or you’d be pitching a fit. 

You finish off your water and he takes it, picking out ice cubes and sucking on them. You ask what the fuck’s wrong with his ice cubes, he tells you he likes your’s better and you tell him that’s dumb. It’s your usual conversation, and soon the bell attached to the front door dings and you turn and you’re almost surprised.

Kurlock enters the building, hands in his pockets. He’s not what surprises you, but Rimma is right behind him and you know there’s no fucking way she walked the whole distance. You had heard a couple rumors that her and Kurlock had a history, and there had been one point where he was constantly at the Maryam’s place, but you had never been sure. 

“Hey!” She waves and you wave back, as she comes over and takes a seat. “It’s always funny when you’re trying to hitchhike and you know the driver.” She jerks a thumb back in Kurlock’s direction and you have to give a fake laugh and nod. She looks satisfied enough and starts picking at Gavin’s leftovers, and he doesn’t look like he minds but you want to bitch that you half paid for that and his leftovers were usually your’s. 

Kurlock joins you and he doesn’t look hungry, and sits in silence. Damara peeks out of the kitchen door and starts bitching at him in Japanese and he waves at her and she rolls her eyes. After a moment of leave, she returns with a few papers and drops them in front of him and he smiles. He begins writing and you think they’re job applications. Doesn’t he have like two jobs already? God fucking damn. 

The four-- sometimes five when Damara peeks out to talk-- of you have quiet conversations, sometimes tossing shrimp towards the door in hopes that it’ll attract one of the cats that roam around outside. Damara didn’t look pleased with any of you, and after a while even hit Kurlock with the broom. It was a good time, you think, and you’re a little reluctant to leave for school.

___________________________________________________________

**Conan:**

The morning passes by quickly, most of it spent strumming away at your guitar and indulging your teacher in quiet conversation. College was a lot easier than normal highschool, now that you could focus on your true artistic abilities instead of math or history. Once the morning is gone, you make your way back to your bike. The baby is overdue for a fresh coat of polish and you decide you can do that at work today. It would pop and hopefully Annie would ogle just a bit. 

Riding off with your helmet in place, it’s nice to feel the wind peeling in waves against your clothes. It took no time at all to make it the the garage, pulling through the long parking lot and bringing your bike to a halt. Knocking the kickstand into place, your chain your baby to the pole closest to it and grab your bag. After a quick trip into the bathroom, you’ve replaced your usual duds with a white tee and a pair of stained jean overalls.

Within minutes you’re on your back, underneath a car on a rolling board and working. Someone nearly trips over your feet, though, and you curse aloud. “Damn, daddy-o, watch where you’re walkin’!” You call and you hear a huff and footsteps. Asshole. 

You’re lost in your work for a while, before sliding out from under the car and into the front seat. The engine starts and it’s purring like a cat, and you have to feel a little smug. You give a glance to your watch and decide to retrieve your bike, giving it a nice shining and an oil change. 

A horrible sound turns your attention to the parking lot. Your boss pulls up in the junkiest car you think your eyes have ever had to look at and he gets out, patting down the front. “Ampora, got a piece of work for you.”

“Damn,” is all you manage at first, wandering over the dirty driveway. You wipe your hands on a rag, before tucking it into your pocket and giving the old lemon a lookover. “Does it even work?”

“The engine runs, but that’s about it. It’s a personal car, something old my granddad used to drive.” Your boss shrugs, as he wipes dust off. “It’s something I’ll pay you extra for, needs new paint, dents gone, engine revamped, the whole nine yards.”

You give a nod because you could use the extra dough. “Sure.” You shrug and give the car a look over. He tosses you the key and you drive the damn thing over to your lot, where your other projects are located. It bounces and the ignition kicks with a puff of black exhaust and you know you definitely have your work cut out for you. But glancing to your watch, it’s your lunch break.

After another quick change and fixing your hair, you’re on your bike and off again. It doesn’t take long for you to get to the highschool, and your gal is already on her way over to you. She looks excited, giving you a quick kiss and you grin.

“Hey dollface, how was your day?” You ask as you switch your helmet from your head to her’s. 

“It was good,” she chimes as she fastens her bag in place in and climbs on back. “Gosh Conan, your brother today had me almost wanting to hit him!” She sighs, resting her face against your back and holding on.

“Ugh,” you groan and lean against her gently. “Erin is a drag.” You comment and drive idly around the parking lot before making your way down the road. You swear you see Erin’s face amongst the crowd, and he looks angry. You don’t care.

Within a matter of minutes, you’ve pulled up at your favorite diner in the entire buttfuck town. It’s a small joint, with a jukebox in the corner and a line of retro lamps hanging over the neon bar. The entire place looks like it’s ready to be cleared for a sock hop while knocking back some pop. It’s your usual lunch spot, and Annie seems more than willing to join in your recreation of a past decade. 

You lead her into the diner, your jacket now draped over her shoulders and your arm around her. Your cigarette hangs from your lip, but it’s unlit for now, and the two of you stroll to the bar. The guy behind it gives you a glance and you give him a nod that means ‘the usual’ and there’s two milkshakes in tall glass cups within moments on the counter in front of you. You pick the cherry off the top of yours, turning to Annie who looked up and smiles at you. You feed it to her, like you always do, and she laughs like it’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever done.

“Gosh Conan, have I ever told you how glubbin’ much I love this joint?” She asks as she stirs her shake with the straw, before taking a long sip of it’s strawberry goodness. You shrug.

“You’ve probably mentioned it once or twice.” You comment and she smiles and gives a little glance around. “Somethin’ you’re lookin’ out for, Annie?”

“Oh!” She turns to look at you. “Not reely, just waiting for our orders to be taken!” She seemed to have something on her mind, as she gave another glance around and you pet her hair back.

“Annie, just tell me what’s up.” You plea and it probably sounds a tad too over dramatic but that’s your style. She finally looks to you and deflates like a balloon, looking down at her skirt and messing with the frills. 

“I’ve just had this bad eeling lately!” She finally looks up at you. “I think Erin might be watching us or somefin. I think I’m just paranoid. I eel like he’d take every opperchtunaty to do so.” She sighs and rubs her cheeks. “I just?? I dunno, he reely is my frond but sometimes I just want to scream at him!” She sighs and pushes her shake away, laying her head down and groaning into her arms. Several people are staring. You sigh and run your fingers up and down the crevice of her spine, and slide them right to the back of her neck. Rubbing gentle circles just like she likes, you pull her a little closer.

“Dollface, you’re gonna stress yourself ragged. Just ignore him. Sure my brother is one hell of a character. You know he’s always got his glasses on.”

“Well yeah, he can’t reely sea without them.” She points out, sitting up and looking at you.

You sigh. “Nah, it’s an expression, Annie.” You pet her again and she just giggles and nods. The waiter drops by your spot, and gets your orders. It’s a peaceful wait, just watching her mess with your hands and sip her shake. She keeps glancing around, though, and it’s really bothering you. 

“Hey doll, you wanna just get our stuff to go? We could go sit at the park under that big ol’ oak and eat there.”

Glancing up, she grins and nods. “Sounds good!” 

___________________________________________________________

**Veronica:**

Wiping the mess of sweat from your brow, you glance up at the mirror. It’s cracked in the top corner and smudged from poor cleaning techniques, and you give another glance around the small bathroom. The walls are lined with grafitti and initials carved into the walls. You take a couple of deep breaths, before pulling some napkins from your bookbag and wiping your face down with cool water. After reapplying your make-up quickly, and brushing your hair you heave a sigh. Your jeans are covered in dirt stains, and somehow managed to get a hole in your shirt. That is the last time you sleep in a fucking tree.

Except it’s totally not and you’ll probably be asleep in the same tree whenever you get upset with your family next.

Your blonde hair is poking into your eyes and you shake your head, noting that if you have the money, you might as well pick up a box of blue dye and fix your highlights. They’re starting to fade and it looks dumb. Kneeling down on the cement ground, where black paint marks indicated numbers in random spots and nail polish splatted around, you found your wallet and dumped it all out on the floor. Digging through the bills, you have one ten, a whole mess of ones, some quarters, and enough pennies that if you put them in a sock and threw it at someone, it would probably give them a concussion. You count it out, and you have twenty-one dollars and eighty-nine cents altogether. 

You throw all of your shit back together, but one penny runs from you and slips down the drain on the floor. Eighty-eight cents. Just your luck.

Bag slung over your shoulder, you exit the small bathroom and paw around the shelves of the store. It’s a small place, selling slushies, candy, magazines, pregnancy tests, condoms, smokes, and a couple hair products. And it was your home, your real home. On weekends you worked behind the counter, and during the week you stopped by to pick up a Faygo and a pack of cigs. Darius worked mornings behind the counter, an older gentleman, always with his cowboy hat and an old Impala that shined brighter than stars. Leah worked mornings and nights as a stocker, with a tad too much eyeliner and a smile that probably made children cry. Jack worked afternoons behind the counter and he had to be the most sarcastic asshole you had ever met, with his alcohol print tees and liquid blue eyes. They were more like your family than your sister or mother had ever been. 

“‘Nica.” Jack greeted when he caught sight of you and you wave and slide up to the counter. “Your usual?”

“Yeah, plus,” you drop a big back of Cheese Balls on the counter and ruffle your hair a bit. “I’m starving.”

“At least buy a fuckin’ sandwich then.” He shook his head in disapproval but rung up the snack anyway, and you laugh and pay him. “Run away again?”

“The only reason I ever go back is because I’m out of money, you know that. That or mom finally calls the cops and they drag me back. But I think she gave up on doing that after the first couple runaways.” You scoff and slide behind the counter, grabbing one of the few stools they kept hidden and starting to eat at the counter. Jack didn’t say shit, so you assumed it was alright. It’s not like this is the first time you’ve done this, anyway. 

You scrounge around your bag in search of your phone charger, plugging it into one of the outlets and flicking your phone on. You still have service, so your mom already has assumed this will be a short one. You doubt it. But then again, you always doubt it.

\--arachnidsGrip [ AG ] started pestering centaursTesticle [ CT ]--  
AG: Hey!  
CT: D -- Hello  
CT: D -- I was informed that you are not attending the educational system today  
AG: Fuck school!!!!!!!!  
CT: D -- I assumed you might say that  
AG: School is for dum8 people! And I’m not dum8 so that is that.  
CT: D -- I attend school  
CT: D -- And I am highly intelligent  
AG: That’s 8ecause you’re just plain stupid.  
CT: D -- Am not  
AG: Are to!!!!  
CT: D -- No  
AG: Yes!!!!!!!!  
CT: D -- No  
CT: D -- Stop this nonsense at once  
CT: D -- It’s obno%ious  
AG: Your face is o8noxious!  
CT: D -- Now you are simply being childish  
AG: ::::)  
CT: D -- Did your mother cast you out again  
AG: She might as well have!  
AG: I stood in the rain for hours waiting for her to come get me like she said she would!  
AG: Dirty rotten lying stupid floozy!!  
CT: D -- The hatred you hold for her perple%es me  
AG: Oh.  
AG: Gross.  
AG: Please tell me that’s not code for you get off on that.  
AG: I don’t think there’s even a name for that.  
CT: D -- Silence  
CT: D -- I simply meant that I dont think I could loathe my mother  
AG: She’s not even your real mother!  
CT: D -- She might as well be  
CT: D -- My father brought a lovely woman into the household and her lovely daughters  
CT: D -- I can respect his wishes  
AG: Lovely daughters?  
AG: HA.  
AG: Her daughters are a 8unch of cat humping otaku psychos with an autism complex and a hunting license.  
AG: Doesn’t exactly spell lovely to me.  
CT: D -- I dont believe they have se%ual relations with their feline collection  
CT: D -- Whats an otaku  
CT: D -- I dont think autism can be considered a comple%  
AG: Ugh.  
AG: I’m not explaining an otaku to you.  
AG: Google it.  
CT: D -- I am afraid to  
AG: Alright I can’t blame you there.  
AG: Man I’m low on money.  
CT: D -- No  
AG: No what????????  
CT: D -- I wasnt even going to allow you to inquire about the possibility of me loaning you currency  
CT: D -- Frankly  
CT: D -- You cant manage money for shit  
CT: D -- Oh fiddlesti%  
CT: D -- I did not say that  
AG: Yes you did.  
CT: D -- It did not happen  
AG: I am screenshotting this and emailing it to your father.  
AG: Oh how disappointed he’ll 8e!  
CT: D -- Dont you dare  
AG: My finger is on the send 8utton.  
CT: D -- You are bluffing  
AG: Do you want to take that chance?  
CT: D -- How much do you need  
AG: Twenty would 8e good for now, I guess.  
AG: That’ll 8uy me a meal or two.  
AG: I might hit up Dave for some cash.  
CT: D -- Meet me after school for the money  
AG: Nah.  
AG: I’ll 8e there in thirty.  
\--arachnidsGrip [AG] has ceased pestering centaursTesticle [CT]--  
CT: D -- Why is it always me  
\--centaursTesticle [CT] has ceased pestering arachnidsGrip [AG]--

___________________________________________________________

You wondered if you could get in trouble for marching into a school that isn’t your own. You shrug, deciding you don’t care and quickly locate Quin’s classroom. He’s a mess of brooding sweat and long hair at his desk, staring at you in what you can only assume is horror. All the students turn to watch you as stomp in, and even the teacher is eyeing you funny. Stupid rich kids.

“Hey blue boy got my cash?” You ask as you plop right on top of Quin’s desk and he moves to fiddle with his wallet, obviously trying to be quick so he can push you out of here. You laugh at him and he glances up, looking annoyed. The deep tones of his skin always made you want to stick a feather in his hair and watch him prance around in Pocahontas. He shoves the money towards you and effectively pushes you off the desk and you laugh. “I’ll have the goods for you, after school.” You laugh and everyone stares as you waltz out. You think he’s a little blue in the face with anger when you leave, but you aren’t sure.

___________________________________________________________

 **Pesterlogs Excerpts:**

\--centaursTesticle [ CT ] started pestering arsenicCatnip [ AC ]--  
CT: D -- Remind me to never loan money to Serket again  
AC: :33 *ac glances up from her school work, tilting her head and purrouncing into her best furriends lap!*  
AC: :33 oh nooooo what happened??  
AC: :33 do you want me to scratch her like shes a board??  
CT: D -- Though that would be entertaining I must decline your offer  
AC: :33 darn  
AC: :33 what did she do?  
CT: D -- Humiliated me in front of the whole class  
CT: D -- A teacher has asked me if I was soliciting se% from her  
AC: :(( oh what the hell??  
CT: D -- Nathalie  
CT: D -- Language  
AC: :33 english purrlease!  
CT: D -- You are not funny  
AC: :33 of course i am!  
AC: :33 besides if i were being completely honest  
AC: :33 id purrfur my native tongue!  
CT: D -- You are silly  
AC: :33 i try! :3

\--anxiousWingman [ AW ] started pestering adiosToreador [ AT ]--  
AW: hey man...  
AW: 1 m1ght be p1ck1ng you up from school today 1nstead of dad  
AT: oH OKAY,  
AT: aNY REASON WHY,  
AW: he’s work1ng late...  
AW: noth1ng too b1g.  
AT: iS IT OKAY IF ARAN COMES WITH US,  
AW: sh*t man, sure.  
AW: that doll is sweet.  
AW: a l1ttle scary though.  
AW: she probably gets that from her s1ster...  
AT: hEH,  
AT: yEAH DAMARA IS TERRIFYING,,,  
AT: aRAN SCARES ME SOMETIMES TOO, bUT THAT’S JUST BECAUSE, wELL, pROBABLY HER OBSESSION WITH DEAD THINGS,  
AT: aND GHOSTS  
AW: ha! don’t worry trav.  
AW: she’s noth1ng compared to her s1ster 1n the terr1fying department...  
AT: yEAH,

NN: 私があなたを悩ませてような気がします。  
TG: oh fuck japanese lady  
TG: wing wong ching chong shalla lalla bang bang  
NN: 私はあなたが中国人女性を誘惑している聞く。  
NN: なぜ彼女は私の上に？  
NN: 少なくとも私はあなたの肉棒を見ることができます。  
TG: do you have a keyboard with all those little symbols or are you using google translate  
TG: how do i interact with you  
TG: no hablo ingles  
NN: 私はあなたが私をストリップと私のいたずらなビットの上に舌を引きずるようにしたい。  
TG: ッ this looks like a smiley face  
TG: are you saying happy things  
NN: 私はあなたの唇の間に私の猫を押し込むことであなたをシャットダウンします。  
NN: あなたは、お尻の少しゲイの男の子をめちゃくちゃさが好きですか？  
TG: i started translating this shit and its not working  
TG: “I will shut down the you by pushing my cat between your lips. Do you like fucked up is a little gay boy in the ass?”  
TG: i dont think that translated properly  
TG: i dont want to eat a cat god damn chinese folk trying to shove kitties down my throat  
TG: i dont like how fucked up little gay boys getting it up the ass is so no  
NN: 私はその後、私のほうきと尻はそれのポールとの性交があなたになります。  
TG: “After that, I will fuck you with Paul it ass and my broom.”  
TG: whos paul  
TG: please dont fuck me with paul  
NN: 性交何をあなたはちょうど私について言うクソでした、あなたの少し雌犬？私はあなたが私は海軍シールの私のクラスのトップで卒業を知って、私は場所に数多くの秘密の襲撃に関与してきたでしょう、と私は300以上確認され殺害を持っている。私はゴリラ戦の訓練を受けて、私は全体の米軍のトップ狙撃だています。あなたは私に何もちょうど別のターゲットはありません。私は正確にあなたにこの地球上で前に見られなかったの同類を性交を一掃します、私のクソの言葉をマーク。あなたはインターネットを介して私にそのたわごとを言って逃げることができると思いますか？ 、再び野郎と思う。あなたがより良い嵐、ウジのために準備できるように、我々が話すように、私は、米国およびあなたのIPにわたるスパイの私の秘密ネットワークに連絡していますが、今はトレースされている。その嵐は、あなたの人生呼ぶ哀れな小さなものを拭く。あなたが死んだ、子供をクソだ。私はいつでも、どこでも構いません、私は百7以上の方法であなたを殺すことができ、そしてそれはちょうど私の素手でだ。だけでなく、私は広範囲に非武装の戦闘の訓練を受けていますが、私は、米国海兵隊の全体の武器へのアクセス権を持っていると私は大陸、あなた少したわごとの顔を離れてあなたの悲惨なお尻を拭くために、その最大限にそれを使用します。あなたは少し"賢い"コメントがあなたの上にダウンさせるとしていた何かとんでもない報復を知っていたことができる唯一の場合は、多分あなたはあなたのクソ舌を開催していただろう。しかし、あなたは、あなたはそうしなかったことができなかった、そして今、あなたは、あなたの最悪な馬鹿を価格を払っている。私はすべてのあなたの上にくそ怒り意志とあなたはそれに溺れます。あなたは、きみが死んでクソだ。  
TG: thats that goddamn copypasta shit isnt it  
TG: what the fuck did you just say about me you little bitch  
TG: I FUCKING CALLED IT  
TG: “Was fucking say about me just, you bitch your little fuck what? I have a murder was confirmed more than 300 I know the graduation at the top of my class in the Navy Seals are you, and I would have been involved in the attack of the secret number of the place I am. I trained in gorilla warfare, I am a top sniper of the entire U.S. military. There is no target just another nothing to me. Purges the fuck the likes of was not seen before on this planet to you accurately, I mark the words of my fucking. Do you think you can get away to say that shit to me over the Internet? , I think the bastard again. As you can prepare for better storm, maggot, as we speak, the United States and I am in contact secret network of my spy over your IP, but now is being traced. The storm, wipe the small pathetic call your life. You are dead, it's fucking child. Anytime, anywhere can be a me, it's in my bare hands just to kill you in the way of more than seven hundred and, I can. In addition, I am trained in unarmed combat extensively, but I, continent, I off the face of shit a little you and have access to the whole arsenal of the United States Marine Corps to wipe the miserable your ass, you can use it to its fullest. The only case to be able to knew retaliation ridiculous something that was a little "clever" comment and bring down upon you, you would have held a fucking your tongue maybe you. But you, now, you are paying the price the worst fool of you and you, could not you did not do so. I'm drowning in it and your anger will shit on you all. You're a fucking kid died.”  
TG: this shit is fucking hilarious lets be bffsies 5evr  
NN: THIS IS STUPID.  
\--nambianNecromancy [NN] has fucked off--

\--inoffensiveAdvisor [IA] has started pestering rivetingSuccubus [RS]--  
IA: Rimma.  
IA: Y9u kn9w I didn’t mean it.  
\--rivetingSuccubus [RS] has blocked inoffensiveAdvisor [IA]--

___________________________________________________________

**Dave:**

The week passes by far too slow for your liking, and you’re pretty sure it’s because you have something planned this weekend. A couple things planned actually. Friday night, you and Terri are gonna go to the mall and maybe invade the Walmart and walk around town half the night until you probably get a cab and fall asleep on the futon. Saturday night you had a DJ gig down at that little place on the corner where Tom the homeless guy lives. You often buy him a burger and tip him a twenty spot for being cool. His lazy eye creeps you out, though. Then Sunday morning you and Karter were gonna spend the morning together and do stupid bro things like you do most Sundays. And then that evening you were hosting a party. Most people like your parties because you buy the alcohol and you don’t mind them banging on your bathroom counter.

But as the bell rings signaling the end of the day, you have to smirk to yourself because you’re pretty damn excited. It takes you moments to locate Terri in the hall and the two of you are off and loading yourselves into the car. 

The trip to the mall is short, and you pull her along and she lets you hold her hand even when they both start getting a little sweaty. The two of you prance around, bothering others and drinking fountain sodas. It isn’t long before the two of you find yourselves in the food court, getting club sandwiches and cold Faygo and a buttload of French fries with too much ketchup and not enough salt. 

You guys try being dumb and cliche and feed one another French fries, but you mostly end up with a face covered in ketchup and she keeps biting your fingers. You two give up on being cliche and settle for laughing and tossing French fries at random people, even though she misses every time because you’re just pointing in the general direction of a person and she’s not even sure who she’s throwing at. She takes your tomatoes off your sandwich and you don’t complain because tomatoes aren’t that great anyway.

The two of you joke around like you’ve known one another your entire lives and it’s actually wonderful. She even lets you see her bra strap and you tell her she’s such a dirty slut for letting such a thing happen. She laughs and winks at you and you don’t know it but your whole get in and get out plan seems to be going right down the drain. You can’t bring yourself to care.

The mall is fun but hiding in the clothing racks in Walmart and jumping out to scare people is a blast. It’s especially fucking hilarious because Terri jumps out a couple seconds late, after the person is already done being scared and she growls like a dragon and it shouldn’t be so fucking cute but somehow it is.

The two of you buy a jumbo bag of Skittles and enough Coca-Cola to turn the two of you into balloons from all the goddamn carbonation. It’s dark by now, and you found a nice little field to park in right outside of town. Star gazing isn’t really a good idea, but you can’t help it. She can’t see them, but she can still enjoy herself you think. The two of you lay across the hood of your car, heads tilted back and a blanket draped over your forms. She’s munching on skittles loudly and there’s an open two liter of coke with two straws sticking out of the top and you keep mixing them up and having them sink into the soda. You are sure there are a good six or seven at the bottom of the bottle by now. The air is cool against your cheeks and you’re sure your’s are slightly red. 

“Dave?” She mutters quietly, shimmying so the blanket rose on her shoulders and covered her chin. 

“Yeah?” You ask, eyes on the stars above. There’s not a cloud in the sky, and the crickets chirping around you make the scene movie-worthy. 

She turns to face you and manages to knock the bottle of soda off the car and onto the ground, it’s contents probably feeding the dirt now. You’re sure that if you came back in a week, that sugar would’ve killed the grass in that spot. You don’t think she noticed so you don’t point it out, but you do turn to face her and she’s just smiling. It’s so serene and you think Karter would watch this in one of his dumb movies. 

“Did you know this is my first date?” She offers up and you’re actually a little surprised.

“A hot girl like you?” You arch a brow and shake your head. “Never would’ve guessed, that’s for sure.”

She chuckles, scooting closer and you wound your arms around her and she stiffens, but doesn’t object. It takes her a moment to relax, but finally she does and heaves out a sigh. “I guess the blind thing intimidates people? Dunno, people are dumb.”

“That is dumb.” You rest your chin on her head and just close your eyes. It’s nice and quiet for a while and the crickets even seem to die down. It’s just you two for the time being and you think she’s fallen asleep. 

You decide to let her continue, yanking out your phone and opening Pesterchum.

\--turntechGodhead [ TG ] has started pestering ghostyTrickster [ GT ]--  
TG: do you ever feel like a huge douchenozzle  
GT: no.  
GT: only a moderately sized douchenozzle.  
TG: man i started dating a blind chick to get in her pants and now im sad  
GT: maybe because you’re a huge douchenozzle?  
TG: im not even normal huge douchenozzle  
TG: this is for the ho with a really open vag man  
TG: she needs a huge nozzle okay normal sized ones just dont cut it  
TG: no but seriously man  
TG: this is her first date  
TG: shes like a sad ultravirgin who no one has ever banged because they didnt want to date a blind person  
GT: oh.  
TG: like dude i thought shed be down for the whole  
TG: lets just get to the fucking part but man i dunno  
TG: i kinda like taking this slow  
GT: damn.  
GT: i didn’t think i’d ever hear you say that!  
GT: dave strider taking his time romancing himself into a girl’s pants.  
GT: i think this is worthy of informing rose!  
TG: no fuck that  
TG: she will psychoanalyze me and ill end up with an asdfghjkl complex  
GT: that’s not even a thing.  
TG: shed invent it  
GT: true.  
TG: dude im laying under the stars snuggling a girl  
TG: this is a thing that is happening  
GT: gross.  
GT: tell karter about your gooey love shenanigans.  
GT: i’m not too interested.  
TG: hes not online man  
TG: im pretty sure hes playing gay chicken with makara tonight  
GT: i don’t think either of them ever lose gay chicken.  
TG: thats because theyre really gay  
TG: like super gay  
TG: its like superman but with more dicks in asses  
GT: what’s their kryptonite?  
TG: vagina  
GT: dave i think i found your blog.  
TG: please dont click the link that says nudes  
GT: too late.  
GT: dude why are your nudes just dicks drawn in ms paint.  
TG: because youre gay  
GT: genius reply, man.  
GT: you have blown comedians everywhere out of the water.  
GT: your comic sucks.  
TG: so do you  
GT: how many gay jokes are you going to make?  
TG: gay jokes arent made they are born this way  
GT: you’re not funny.  
TG: im fucking hilarious and you know it  
TG: shit shes waking up  
TG: toodaloo  
GT: that’s the gayest thing you have ever said.  
\--turntechGodhead [ TG ] has ceased pestering ghostyTrickster [ GT ]--

You are tempted to log back in and get snarky, but she’s stirring in your arms and her eyes are opening. You tuck your phone away and mess with her hair a bit.

“What time is it?”

“A little after nine I think.” You shrug and watch her rub her eyes and yawn and paw at you a bit. It’s sweet, and a lot different from her usual spark. She sighs and looks up at you and you look at her and you know she’s probably gonna have to be home soon but you don’t care. And you don’t think she really does either.

It’s quiet, aside from the soft ruffling of her hair and your breathing. Her hands are resting on your back, her fingers are splayed and she seems so at peace with her nose against your jugular. It’s nice, really. You have never been with anyone like this before and you don’t think you’ve ever just laid with someone, half asleep and smiling. She pulls her head back a little bit and you move to look at her, and you’d swear she was looking at you. She finally leans in, missing your lips and you move your face a bit so yours are on hers. It’s sweet, if not a little sloppy, and you can honestly say you enjoyed it. Pulling back, you brush her bangs out of her eyes even if it’s futile. 

“You know this is sappy as hell and probably doesn’t mean too much since you can’t see... But you’re really pretty.” You admit and you swear her cheeks get a little pink and you laugh and hug her. She takes a deep breath and the two of you just lay there for a while.

___________________________________________________________

Taking her home wasn’t the first thing on your list of things you wanted to do, but it had to be done. You much rather she had slept at your place simply because you never wanted to let go of her. She smiles as you leave her front door, giving you another messy kiss for quick measure before disappearing behind her door.

You slowly make your way back to your apartment and lay in your bed for a long time before finally falling asleep. It’s dumb, but you dream of Skittles and starlight that night.

___________________________________________________________

 

You know for a fact that the gig went sweet as all hell, even if you were scrubbing glitter out of your hair and vodka off your shoes for an hour afterward. You weren’t permitted to drink, according to the employer, because of you being underage and needing you to be strictly there for business. You didn’t mind too much, but too many drunk girls hitting on you and one older man who could not pronounce your name properly for the life of him had led to the consumption of some alcohol on your behalf. 

But now, at this exact moment, this is what is really making this weekend. If you can’t sit with your best friend in your car, screaming along to catchy pop songs and dancing like fools, then they aren’t really your best friend. You and Karter were tearing up your own version of “Hips Don’t Lie”, Karter butchering the male parts and you sounding like heaven with your wonderful Shakira impression. 

“Hold onto the fucking wheel, you asshat.” Karter manages between laughs, pushing you gently and you put your hands back on the wheel, sniggering all the while. 

“Jesus fucking dicks..” You try to stop laughing, shaking your head. “Don’t fucking push the driver, you’re going to kill us both.” 

“Excuse me?” He actually manages to sound offended and you have to laugh. “You were the one who two seconds ago was dancing provocatively with both your hands tangled in your goddamn hair so suck my dick, you are not killing me today. You can die but there’s no fucking way you’re dragging me along with you.”

“It’ll be like a horror movie,” you smirk as you pull into the Arby’s drive-thru. “The virgin survives.”

“Fuck you, I am _not_ a virgin.” Karter huffs and crosses his arms, but eyes the menu as  
two of you wait in the line of cars. 

“Gavin doesn’t count, sorry to disappoint you sweetums.” You coo and finally get to the speaker box and order for the two of you, bitching when Karter had to tweak everything in his order to have more of this or less of that. You decide you’re going to steal one of his onion rings for making this harder.

“Okay back to what we were saying, Gavin _totally_ counts.” He points out before shoving a handful of curly fries into his mouth. You scoff and he shoots you a nasty look when you steal his thing of onion rings. You pick one out and it’s scalding hot, so you stick them in front of the AC vent to cool them down. 

“No he doesn’t man, I’m telling you his dick isn’t a dick. It’s more like the monster that hides under your bed when you’re little. You’ve had the boogie man in your ass, bro.”

“Hardy fucking har.” He sighs and shakes his head, snatching his onion rings when you reach to take one. “Back off.”

“Man suck my dick I paid for them.”

“You paid for me to suck your dick?” Karter inquires, popping an onion ring in his mouth and chewing loudly just to piss you off. 

“Yeah,” you yank a five dollar bill from your pocket and throw it his way. “Get to work.”

“Five bucks?” He sounds incredulous. “I’m not that cheap of a fucking whore, _god_. Make it thirty and I might consider it.”

You grin and start singing along to the horribly annoying chorus of “Poker Face” and make stupid faces at Karter all the way home. He keeps telling you to keep your fucking eyes on the road. You tell him he cannot see your eyes and you steal his curly fries. He is none too pleased. You don’t give a flying fuck.

Back at your place, it’s video games and shitty movies that neither of you actually like and too much food. You will admit it, you and Karter are the fatasses of the universe. You two can pile away food like a orphanage of starving children and you’re not even ashamed. Finding Nemo is playing, the first good movie of the day, and you are ass deep in empty chip bags and soda bottles. He belches quietly and sighs, sinking into his seat and looking annoyed. “This movie sucks.”

“I will fucking call Ellen and tell her you said that.” You threaten and he flips you off lazily. He rubs his stomach, tilting his head back and sighing and you curl up with your phone because life is good and you have a full stomach and a movie to cry over so you’re damn sure gonna Instagram this shit.

___________________________________________________________

**More Pesterlog Excerpts:**

IA: Rimma unbl9ck me this instant.  
IA: I d9 n9t appreciate this.  
IA: If y9u think I’m going t9 waste my time sending y9u a t9rrent 9f messages then y9u are wr9ng.

TT: Are you going to be attending the party at the Strider household?  
GA: I Cannot  
GA: Me And My Mother Will Be Knee Deep In Thread Around That Time  
GA: We Always Sew On Sundays  
TT: What a shame.  
GA: Just Dont Drunk Message Me Afterward Again  
TT: No promises.

IA: Rimma.  
IA: This is n9t w9rking.  
IA: I am c9mpletely uneffected by y9ur b9thers9me childishness. 

AR: Any luck finding a jo8?  
GT: Bullocks.  
GT: No.  
GT: Dad isn’t exactly making is easier.  
GT: He’s a wonderful man but sometimes i just want to run away and live on an island away from him!  
AR: Hehe.  
AR: Trust me, I know the feeling of an over8earing parent all too well.  
AR: My mother isn’t exactly parent of the year!  
GT: Well devils fucking dickens i guess you’re right.  
GT: *sighs and wipes forehead*  
GT: Sometimes i wish life was simpler.  
AR: I do as well.  
AR: 8ut you know how it is.  
AR: We all have a place and a purpose.  
GT: But i dont feel like that?  
GT: I don’t know, i just never feel like there’s anywhere for me.  
GT: I’m like a game piece that somebody accidentally put in the wrong game box.  
GT: I’m a blasted chess piece dropped in the land of candyland.  
GT: Except candyland is boring and nothing like a katy perry music video.  
AR: Not even the gummy 8ears flipping people off?  
GT: Especially not the gummy bears.  
AR: Darn.

IA: I can walk t9 y9ur h9use.  
IA: It’s n9t far.  
IA: I’d drive but y9u might try t9 run away fr9m the car again.

\--arachnidsGrip [AG] started pestering turntechGodhead [TG]--  
AG: Daaaaaaaave!  
TG: veronicaaaaaaaaa  
AG: That was nine, you idjit.   
TG: i did that on purpose  
AG: Fuck you.  
AG: Anyway, wanna loan me some money?  
TG: nah  
TG: just come here tonight and get wasted  
TG: there will be food  
AG: Ugh!!  
AG: I need actual cash.  
AG: My mom is gonna cut off my cell soon.  
TG: go home  
AG: Suck my dick.  
TG: okay come over and i will  
AG: ::::(  
TG: babe sorry to break it to you but you dont have that many eyes  
TG: i know it must be tragic to know this considering mirrors break everytime you walk by them so its obvious you were misinformed  
AG: Damn.  
AG: What crawled up your ass and died?  
TG: dunno guess im still waiting for the fifty bucks i loaned you earlier in the week to be paid back  
AG: Fuck this.  
\--arachnidsGrip [AG] has ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG]--  


IA: Rimma are y9u attending Strider’s party t9night?  
IA: Will y9u please un6l9ck me already?  
IA: Maryam.

RS: I kno+w he’s pro+bably messaging me right no+w.  
ES: :o(  
ES: THAT THERE IS A DAMN MOTHERFUCKIN POSSIBILITY I CAN’T GET THE GUMPTION TO BE DENYING.  
RS: He co+nfuses me.  
RS: So+metimes I think I’m in lo+ve with him.  
RS: And then I realize this is the real wo+rld.  
RS: It’s no+t so+me mo+vie where everything is just go+ing to+ wo+rk itself o+ut.  
RS: Being in lo+ve with him wo+uld be like lo+ving a very argumentative brick wall.  
RS: It’s just no+t wo+rth it.

IA: I give up.

___________________________________________________________

 

**Rose:**

The party itself has been a major blast to say the least, being about an hour or so in. You wouldn’t say it aloud, but you are trashed beyond belief. Your mind is spinning and your center of balance might as well be upside down. Your vision blurs and clears, then blurs again and you can’t help but giggle helplessly as you paw at the back of Dave’s shirt. “Dave, Daavvee.” 

He turns to give you a glance, and you’ve known for a while that he doesn’t like it when you get drop dead drunk at his parties. You tend to do it quite often, despite those circumstances. “Rose how the fuck are you even standing?” He sighs loudly and puts a protective arm around you, half carrying you towards the hall. “I’m putting you to sleep.”

“Noooooooooooooooo,” you whine and push him away, giggling and managing to fall over. A couple people laugh but you don’t mind. “God no Dave it’s just getting good!” You laugh and push yourself to your feet and he puts you in Karter’s care. Karter is doing what Karter always does at parties. Sitting on the couch and sipping soda. You don’t realize you’ve been grinning at him blankly for all of five minutes and he looks creeped out so you lay down and put your head in his lap. 

“What the fuck, Rose?” He growls but doesn’t push you away. “Don’t puke on me, or I will probably hurl all over you.” He warns and sips his soda before setting the empty Solo cup down. You just yawn and pass out against his legs for a while.

You wake up about two hours later, you think. Karter’s lap has been replaced with Gavin’s, and he’s got his fingers threading through your hair absent-mindedly. He has a lampshade on his head and you think that’s supposed to be cliche, but you’re not sure. You roll over so you’re laying on your back and wave, and he grins down at you. He reeks of pot and you think him and a few other’s probably hot boxed in the bathroom. 

You claw around your pockets for your phone, finding it and of course Kanya’s chat is the first one that you click on. 

\--tentacleTherapist [ TT ] has started pestering grimAuxiliatrix [GA]--  
TT: Payanaya.  
GA: Did You Even Try  
TT: K.  
GA: Close Enough  
TT: I woek up in a clwons’ lap.  
TT: *woke  
TT: *cown’s  
TT: *clwon  
GA: Dont Hurt Yourself Dear  
GA: Why Are You In Gavins Lap  
TT: He has a funny hat.  
GA: Thats Nice Rose  
GA: How Much Have You Drank  
TT:Uh,  
TT: Alot  
GA: Obviously  
TT: Gaviovn smells liek durgs.  
TT: i”m gonna get arrested  
GA: No Darling You Arent  
GA: Why Dont You Go Back To Sleep  
TT: Ok.  
TT: Kyana??  
GA: Yes  
TT: I lovvveeee you.  
GA: I Know Rose  
GA: I Love You Too  
TT: CAn i tell you a secret?  
GA: Of Course  
TT: Sometiems I think you’re my best friend like everrrr.  
GA: Why Thank You Rose  
GA: Its An Honor  
TT: :D  
GA: Sleep  
TT: Yeaahahhh okay Im’ gonna  
TT: Daeve’s bed  
TT: Byeee  
\--tentacleTherapist [TT] has ceased pestering grimAuxiliatrix [GA]--

Gavin carefully helps you to Dave’s room and into bed, even laying down with you and cuddling close. He’s probably soaring right now, so you just wound your arms around him and snuggle closer. It’s not unpleasant, and his scent makes you light-headed. You’re fast asleep in no time

___________________________________________________________

You jerk awake and instantly regret it, pain shooting through your skull and you roll over to yank the alarm clock from the wall. You roll right on top of someone, but that doesn’t stop you before the alarm is silenced and you roll back into the comfortable crevice in Gavin’s arms. 

“You squished me.” Dave points out behind you, rolling over to cuddle closer to your back. He was warm and there were arms around Gavin as well. Karter was spooning the larger male, and you almost laugh but you are sure it would hurt.

You hear Dave’s door open, and a cough that caught the attention of the boy behind you. Bro, Dave’s elder brother, was perched in the doorway with an arched brow. “Hosting orgies without me?”

“All my friends are minors.” He points out and tightens his grip around you, snuggling closer. “How bad is it out there?” You want to thank him for talking quietly but you don’t quite yet.

Bro arches a brow, glancing back before shaking his head at Dave. “You’re gonna be cleanin’ all fuckin’ afternoon, I hope you know.”

“Shiiit.” He sighs and curls up more. “Time?”

“Five-thirty, y’all got a little while longer.” He sighs and is gone and Dave is asleep in a heartbeat. Just a little more sleep wouldn’t hurt, you decide.

It takes you a matter of seconds to drift off into subconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just let me know if there are any quirk errors!


	4. 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow uh guess this is back to being updated  
> hahaha sorry guys ive been major busy with school and stuff and its horrible  
> but yeah let the lofam commence  
> also check out #tlofam on tumblr or you can check me out my url is gamzeemakarasdick  
> i also will admit that im the worst proof reader on the face of the planet okay so feel free to point out any mistakes if you see any

**Kanya:**

You don’t believe this message should have you in knots but somehow it does. It should be exactly what you want to hear. But it’s not. And sometimes you don’t think it’ll ever be.

TT: I lovvveeee you.

Curling your legs to your chest, your swallow and reread the message over and over again. It had been a full day since she had sent it, and here you still were, confused. She wouldn’t spout such sentiment if she wasn’t intoxicated beyond belief and you feel your insides tighten with grief. You feel stupid for being in knots over her, but it’s hard not to be.

You love her.

TT: Sometiems I think you’re my best friend like everrrr.

She’s your best friend and you love her so much that sometimes it makes your heart hurt. Sometimes you wonder if she could ever feel the same for you and somewhere in your heart you know she doesn’t. You slam the computer lid shut and push it away from you. Your fingers are shaking and all is quiet besides your loud breathing. Why does life have to be so hard? 

You ponder the inquiry in dead silence, at least until the slam of a door alerts you that something is off. A stern voice is shouting, and you realize it’s your father. He sounds angry because Rimma stayed out late without permission, again. When will they realize they cannot control her? When will they come to their senses and realize that the more they try to, the worst she will become? She is a free spirit, a burning flame and they are persistent water trying to drench until nothing is left but a soaking pile of ash and hopelessness. 

Things finally quieted down and you twiddled your thumbs tiredly, peeling the computer open and closing Rose’s chat box. Signing out, you shut it down properly and close it once again, gently this time, before standing and feeling a little lost. You don’t think you could sleep on your current mind set, and nobody was online to talk to anyway. You all had school in the morning, and you were an avid believer in getting a good eight hours of sleep, plus time to get ready and have a well-balanced breakfast.

You could swear you heard your sister crying next door, though. It was a rare sound, but you were sure you heard it more than anyone else you knew. Even Kevin, who most of the time is the one who causes her to cry, but that wasn’t important.

You’ll just have to skip out on breakfast, you guess.

“You’re not a brick wall, Rimmy.” You warn her, as you slide through her door and she looks up from where she’s seated, curled up in a comforter and face buried in her hands. Wiping at her tears, she sucked in a deep breath and shook her head. 

“I’m not pretending to be one.” She contradicted, looking you eye-to-eye. She was strong, and you knew it. She held so much strength and walked with such an air of self-confidence in all who she was and all that she did that you couldn’t help but be jealous. “But I feel like a pile of feathers and even the slightest bit of wind keeps scattering me into pieces until I can’t find all the little bits of myself again.”

“You’re trying too hard,” you reassure her. You take up the spot behind her, digging your thumbs into the back of her shoulders in comforting circles. “You’re so wonderful, Rimmy.” You told her time and time again, and sometimes you wondered if she ever forgot it in the first place. Oh well.

“They hate me,” she stated blankly, sniffling and wiping at her eyes. “They hate me and he hates me and I don’t know why I care so much what they think because sometimes I think I hate all of them too.” She pushed her fingertips against her eyelids, like she was attempting to push the tears back. Silly Rimmy, always trying to push back on the dam. Sometimes the floodgates just need to be opened for a little while until they drain into run-off and all that water pressure goes somewhere else, even if for only a little while.

“You should not care to please our parents, Rimmy,” you let your arms worm around her neck, pulling her back against your shoulder and she sniffled loudly. “Pleasing them won’t make you happy, and we both are quite sure of that.”

She simply nodded, gasping in a quick sob and coughing a bit, closing her eyes and letting out a deep breath. “As for Kevin, he’s always been like that. You know how it goes, you can’t know how to love properly if you do not love yourself.”

“I don’t believe that, though,” she decided, aloud. “Anyone can love, whether they’re the most self-loathing person you’ve ever met, or the most confident person in the world. I hate it when people preach that you need to learn to laugh before you can love. A pint of bullshit is what it is.” Good. You had her ranting, and that’s what you needed. Rimma needed something to be passionate about on a regular basis, and this was always a sure fire way to get her to calm down. “You don’t need love to be happy and you don’t have to expect love to make you happy. Happiness isn’t something that’s easy to come across, of course. I understand that, and neither is love, but I know the two don’t always walk hand in hand. Don’t assume they do, Kanya.”

“You have a point, dear sister.” You rest your chin atop her head, and she relaxed in your grip. It was silent for a good couple of minutes.

“So,” Rimmy started, fingers rubbing against your knee cap gently. “Any secrets you wanna confess while we’re at it, baby sister?”

You go quiet for a long moment, before swallowing. “Well, I think I’m a lesbian.”

“I meant secrets I hadn’t figured out on my own, silly.”

 

**Gavin:**

It's a rinky dink little joint, set up on old wood that was rotted at the core. Surrounded by a plethora of look-alikes, it almost presented an eerie feel. Too many dark colors and hangnail-shingles. The paint along the outer panes was peeling, revealing a shadowy grey shade underneath. At the end of almost every driveway was an overflowing trash can, and the majority of mail boxes looked like they had been through hell and back.

This is what you deemed home, and you couldn’t remember a time before this. You don’t think you could if you actually tried, and after another long drag of the bong tells you that you ain’t got a motherfuckin’ idea and you don’t give two fucks.

Lost in the smoke swirling around your head and planting your brain in the clouds, you suck in another deep breath and watch the light fog its way through the particles, in the dim porchlight. It looked strangely beautiful, and before you knew it, you had been lost in its very existence for a good twenty minutes and your carefully packed pipe-piece has long burned out. Sucking at what was left in the bong, though futile, made you feel slightly better. 

You tuck the instrument back into your sylladex, and sway your way back indoors. The walls were a peeling mess, and the living room smelt like urine and cigarettes. Wobbling your way inside, you pass into the narrow hallway. At it’s end was a door, with old stenciled in heights, starting from near the bottom and going up. Through your haze, you remember when your mother used to drag you to the door just to check your height. Black line for Kurlock, purple for you.

Of course this hadn’t been updated since she had gotten sick, three years ago. Some form of cancer which made your lymph nodes grow too large, or something like that. You could never remember the name of it. It had been gone for a little while, but you all knew when the relapse was coming. None of you knew that it was hit so _hard_.

Pushing the door aside, you grin lazily and her eyes find you. Her features were gaunt, and sunken in. Skin hung off her bones in unnatural ways, and she was far too thin and far too tired-looking. Karter used to always tell you, there’s no beauty in death. Only the most truthful form of ugliness. And that people needed to get it through their thick skulls.

“Gavin,” she started with a smile and sitting up in the shitty hospital bed that the three of you had managed to scrounge up together. That’s a lie. You were only thirteen when it all went down, and you didn’t donate a dime. You had stopped eating for a few days, but your father made a point that you wouldn’t be much help if you were dead.

“‘Ey momma,” you drawl and make your way to the bedside, wiggling up against her side and she held both your hands in her’s. “How you doin’?”

“Pretty good,” she beamed, that smile lighting up like a kid on christmas morning. You didn’t come in here to see her enough, and you felt guilty. It was just so sad, and you couldn’t stand yourself, much less your own emotions. “How was school today?”

“It was good,” you lie and plant a kiss on the side of her temple. She had a fever.

She gave a giddy sort of nod, leaning her head against your’s and grinning. She was warm in your grip, and you sigh and simply let her lean against you for a long time. It’s quiet, and before you know it, she’s snoring. It’s a soothing sound, reminding you of the days you used to willingly crawl into the bed with her and dad and she’d hold you for hours until you stopped rambling and finally fell asleep.

“I love you,” you whisper to her, planting a kiss on the side of her temple, before slipping from beside her and adjusting her pillows. Once she looked comfortable, you turned to notice Kurlock in the doorway, eyes on you.

He was always in here, always in this room, always staring at her. “She just fell asleep,” you let him know, and he simply nods and scoots past you, kissing her forehead and finding her meter to check her blood sugar. “Is it normal?” You inquire, not quite sure how to even tell. He simply nodded, and the meter read what looked like 108, so you assumed that was good. 

You felt really awkward, and because of this, you found yourself drifting towards the door. You could hear your father in the living room, but you didn’t want to be in here anymore. It smelt like death and your brother and medicine and you think your high is wearing off. 

You close the door as silently as you can behind you, shuffling your feet down the hall and peeking into the room. The television was on, playing black and white reruns of some old show you’ve never heard of. You don’t see him, and his cigarette was still smoldering in the ash tray. Considering he was most likely in the bathroom, he seemed easily enough to avoid. After a few cautious steps into the living room, you hurry along until you reach the little door, that led to the tiny staircase into the attic. There was another tiny door up there, which you hunched through and found yourself in your own room. You locked the door behind you, jiggling it to make sure it was in place. You had an old box-spring on the floor, metal spikes poking out of it’s side from years of overuse. And scattered bottles of Faygo covered the floor, some empty, and some spilling their sugary contents onto the floor. 

You plop down on the mattress, ignoring the loud boing! and deflate, your breath leaving your body in a big whoosh. It was dark outside, you could easily tell from the little skylight in your room. It was ratty old window, a few feet away from the bed. It opened, sometimes, and had a large crack in it that let in water when it rained. Once or twice you had to crawl onto the roof and shove the snow off of it, because it would keep creaking and you were terrified if was going to smash in and you knew nobody in your house would fix it.

The sky was clear tonight, though. The stars shined brightly through thin clouds that seemed almost nonexistent, and a helicopter or two flew by, lights flickering in the back of the sky like lies, shooting stars that never knew how to be stars in the first place.

After the stars were boring, and your high had long faded away, you were left staring at the ceiling. Posters hung from the support beams, along with clothes that needed to dry like two weeks ago and you had forgotten about.

Rolling over, you delve your hand under the uncomfortable mattress and which you were at Karter’s. At least there you would have a down pillow to lay your head on and a quilt to jerk off under. Oh well.

Dragging a random copy of _Playboy_ from under your bed, you flip through the pages until you find something appetizing and get to work. 

**Karter:**

You slept about as shitty as any man could manage, tossing and turning and getting lost in the idea Will Smith taking you on romantic boat rides.

Your morning schedule was the usual, wake up, shower, text Gavin 400 times to make sure he was awake, get dressed, go downstairs to ear, text Gavin another 300 times, and do your homework and probably watch porn if Gavin wasn't bothering you.

CG: YOU NEED TO FUCKING WAKE UP SHIT FOR BRAINS.  
CG: I LOVE YOU.  
CG: HEY FUCKFACE GET UP.  
CG: YOU'RE GOING TO MISS SCHOOL.  
CG: YOU'RE GONNA FAIL AND END UP OWNING NINETY-TWO CATS THAT WILL BE SUGAR STONED AT ALL TIMES.  
CG: AND I'LL STILL BE TEXTING YOU TO REMIND YOU TO FEED THE FUCKERS.  
CG: YOU GIANT FLAMING HOMOSEXUAL, GET OFF YOUR SORRY BONER AND SAY HI TO ME.  
CG: THE WORLD DOES NOT REVOLVE AROUND YOUR SHITTY SLEEPING PATTERNS, NOR DOES IT REVOLVE AROUND MINE.  
CG: WAKEY WAKEY EGGS AND FUCKING EARTHQUAKIES.  
CG: GAVIN MICHAEL MAKARA I SWEAR TO FUCK I WILL TELL KEVIN YOU TRIGGERED RIMMA AND LOCK YOU IN A ROOM WITH HIM FOR TWO HOURS.  
CG: OKAY YEAH THAT'S WAY TOO FUCKING HARSH.  
CG: SOMETIMES I THINK ABOUT WILL SMITH FONDLING MY UNMENTIONABLES WHILE YOU'RE TOUCHING ME.  
TC: GoOd mOrNiNg tO YoU ToO.  
CG: OF COURSE THAT WAKES YOU UP.  
CG: YOU'RE RUNNING LATE.  
TC: Do i gOtS To cOmE ToDaY, bRoThA?  
TC: JuSt aIn't fEeLiN It.  
CG: YES YOU 'GOTS' TO COME.  
CG: GET YOUR ASS DRESSED AND CLEAN.  
TC: DaD'S StIlL HeRe.  
CG: AUGH.  
CG: DOESN'T KURLOCK MOPE AROUND THERE IN THE MORNINGS?  
TC: GoT A NeW JoB Or sOmE WiCkEd sHiT.  
TC: DoN'T CoMe hOmE MuCh nO MoRe.  
TC: HeRe lAtE At nIgHt tIl eArLy mOrNiNg aNd gOnE AgAiN.  
CG: FUCK.  
CG: FINE THEN.  
CG: JUST PUT CLOTHES ON  
CG: I HAVE TO GO.  
CG: KEVIN IS INSISTING ON LEAVING EARLY BECAUSE THE SCHOOL IS RUNNING SOME DUMB BLOOD DRIVE.  
CG: DUMB PRIVATE SCHOOLS WITH THEIR RICH CHARITY BULLSHIT.  
CG: ANYWAY, I’M LEAVING.  
CG: DON’T MISS THE BUS.

You tucked your phone away, gathering your shit together and finding yourself locked in the car with your brother, sat in the passenger seat and staring at the radio longingly. You just wanted _something_. It was so dreadfully boring, sitting in silence with Kevin. You guess it’s better than when he’s talking, but still. Busying yourself by scrolling through the pictures on your phone, you notice that you look fucking terrible in all your selfies. You promptly delete every single one.

You have a lot of pictures of you and Gavin together, being silly and laying around. Same with Dave, and that makes you kind of sad. With each day that passes, him and Terri get closer and closer and you hate that you long for her more. Why do you even care? You’ve talked to her like, three times.

You decide you need to suck it up and get over it. Dave is one of your best friends, and staring all gooey-eyed after his girlfriend, which he saw first by the way, would be going against bro code. Huffing loudly, you feel your eyes find you and you attempt to sneak down into your turtleneck and disappear forever. Unfortunately, he knows how turtlenecks works, and he knows that you’re actually still there. Fuck you, Kevin.

“What’s wrong?” He inquired, looking ahead once again, but he for once sounded genuinely concerned.

“Women are fucking psychopaths.” You answer plainly, and the way he agrees faster than you can blink makes you think he’s mad at Rimma. When isn’t he mad at Rimma, though.

“Rimma yelled at me last night and it got kinda nasty,” he admitted, sighing and sinking into his own seat. You both would’ve been snogging it up with the fabric in Sweatertown, if it weren’t for the fact that he’s driving and you’re not snogging anything within three foot of your dipshit brother.

“I’m in love with a blind girl who’s falling head over heels for my best friend.” You just blurt it out, and it feels weird. You’ve known her for a fucking week, you freaking idiot. You don’t love her. You can’t love her.

“Oh,” Kevin murmurs and it’s quiet for a little while. “Well... Um. I told Rimma I hated her last night, and I’m not sure if I meant it.”

“It’s okay. I’m not sure if I meant it when I just said I loved her, so we can both be idiots together.”

Kevin sighed loudly, shaking his head. “I just want her to love me.” He stated finally, and you think it’s the most open your brother has ever been with you about anything.

You decide to return the favor.

“Ditto,” you say, as you bury your face in your arms. “Fuckin’ ditto.”

 

**Veronica:**

Rolling over, the branches dig into your back and you wince, going to move. Unfortunately, when you do, your entire body flips and you find yourself tumbling to the ground. You land awkwardly on your arm, a pain shooting up your shoulder and earning a rather embarrassing yelp. Rolling onto your back, you grip the joint and thrash about, your stuff following suit and hurtling down from the tree and onto your stomach, knocking the wind out of you. 

You fucking hate your life.

At least last time you ran away, you had your car to sleep in. It was probably sitting in your driveway, now that you think about it. Just sitting there, waiting. While your mom and sister will be at the school all day.

You’re a fucking genius.

___________________________________________________________

It’s a long as hell walk from the park to your house, but you don’t mind it much at all. You’re going to be home-free, soon enough. Grinning maliciously, you kick a pebble down the length of your neighborhood, until you stood in front of your house. Well, her house. It’s a two story, with dark grey siding and a few too many trees shading the driveway. The house itself was in desperate need of a new paint job, and the flowers were overgrowing in the flower box. Walking up the driveway, you found your old truck exactly where you thought it was. Sitting in the driveway, the old thing was sunbaking and clean. 

Sliding your fingers under the handle, you wince and let out a loud whine. Retracting your hand almost instantly, your fingertips are blood and you are pissed. Fucking thumbtacks???????? Your mother had gone too far. You do a lap around the car, noticing the potato clogging the exhaust pipe, and removing that. You check the tires too, and you carefully get the door open, and crawl inside the warm cabin. Your chuck your stuff into the passenger seat, and realize you don’t have the keys. Oh well.

Closing the door, you check the glove compartment, the overhead trays, cup holders, everything. You can’t be sure that your mother isn’t trying to further sabotage you. Once you were sure the coast was clear, you repositioned your body and pry open the section under the steering wheel. You had done this once or twice before, so you knew this piece of shit and it’s weak points. 

Good thing you had gotten stuck in juvey, or you wouldn’t have learned any of this. You find your Swiss-army knife and bite it between your teeth, memorizing the color patterns of the wires. You dig around in your bag, looking for something rubber, anything really. You feel stupid, but it’s like you struck luck when you found the mess of condoms that had all slipped to the bottom of your back, unpackaging one, your gag at the sliminess, but it’s better than being electrocuted. Carefully gripping the army knife with the thin layer of rubber you stretched over it, you grip both the red wires and cut them. Once theyre cut, you unpackage another rubber and use it to help you wrap the wire tips together. You glance up, and the lights of the car have come on, along with the radio. 

Halfway there, you grab the knife and began sawing at the thicker brown wires. After the hassle of stripping the ends, you grin maniacally as you touch them together and they spark. The car revs to life quietly, and you touch the cover back onto the bottom of the steering wheel. Taking the car out of park and putting it into drive, you creep down the driveway, laughing the whole way there.

F8CK YOU MOM!!!!!!!!

**Karter:**

The day is already two and a half classes in, and you haven’t seen heads or toes of Gavin. You don’t like it, considering this is the only class you have with the asshole and you two had a project you were doing, and the fact that if he wasn’t here, he was home. 

“Vantas,” the math teacher, Mrs. Malcolm started, “where’s your boyfriend?” This, easily earned a blush from you and several giggles from people around you.

:”He’s not my fuc---. He’s not my boyfriend. And I don’t know where he is.” You state finally, shrugging. You honestly had no idea where the fuck Gavin was, but he was probably home. Sleeping in and ignoring his father. What a fucking asshole. No wonder he’s falling behind; he can’t even get his ass up in the mornings to get on the bus.

You do the rest of the math project to the best of your ability, sighing and staring at it. It was this dumbshit coloring thing with all these fill in the blanks and just tons of pages. And Gavin had borrowed most of your fucking notes for his homework. Fucking useless sometimes, you swear.

You hate today. You’re angry and upset and your best friend isn’t even here and your other best friend was too busy feeling up his girlfriend by his locker to give two fucks about you. Today was a bitter day.

The class period dragged, and you got hit by another two or three paper balls, one of them actually saying “faggot” in big letters on the inside. Your mood was officially soured beyond belief, and you handed in your packet silently, even though it wasn’t finished. Gavin wouldn’t have been much help with it, but at least you would look better because it would simply look like Gavin was holding you back and you actually knew what you were doing.

Lunch drags by, and you feel sick and angry, and you won’t talk to anyone. You happen to listen in on many of the conversations though.

“But yeah, that Leiner kid found this cool abandoned house back in the woods past the Arby’s.”

“Down Old Mill Road or?”

“Nah, okay you gotta pass the Arby’s on Halloway Street, and you make the next right at the intersection, and once you pass that, you continue on down that road. You pass a Denny’s, and a few houses, plus a little liquor store and some gas station that no one uses, and then it breaks off into a bunch of trees and it’s this long ass winding road. And the main gravelled part breaks off to head to a development that’s being built back there, but on that road, there’s like this old dirt road into the woods that leads back to this huge old place that was probably forgotten about.” 

“Is it haunted?” Aran Dia asked, looking excited. “Oh god, i hope so!”

“No idea, but,” Dave started, sitting back in his seat, “it looks hella wicked for parties. Clean it up a little, see who can spare a generator on weekends, and bam, we have an old house that we can go to. It’s secluded, so nobody will hear the music or see the lights, and almost nobody knows it exists, so nobody is gonna go looking.” He was grinning, and to be honest, the place sounded fucking creepy to you. Old abandoned houses did not spell good party places for you.

“Can I help clean it up?” Aran Dia sounded so excited that you were sure she was going to wet herself.

“Sure, sweetheart. We’re starting this afternoon. I already have a small crew ready. Do you have a ride home?”

“Nope!” She added, and your could hear her feet skidding back and forth against the linoleum floor and it was getting on your nerves. “Mom usually picks us up after school, but I can cancel with her and just ride home with you.”

“Alright. We gotta stop by my place afterwards though, because Terri is coming with us but we gotta pick up her dog, and then we can stop by the Food Lion on Lenard Way and get some trash bags and brooms and cleaning shit.”

“Sounds good!”

You sigh loudly, shaking your head and pushing your tray to the middle of the table. Of course, this was the universal symbol for ‘everyone fight to the death for the food on my tray’, and you could hear the hands grabbing at your french fries and arguing over who got the half of your burger that was left. You close your eyes and slowly try to slip into a nap, hoping that your lack of sleep from this morning would be of assistance. When you finally do drift off, it’s a good ten minutes before Dave shakes you awake.

“Yo man c’mon, I’m gonna be majorly late for Hines’ class, and you know that douchebag has got a fucking complex or something. Dude, get the fuck up.”

It took you a moment to come to, sitting up and looking around, a groggy and confused mess. “What?”

“Class,” he said, shaking his bookbag in front of you for emphasis. “Something you need to get to. You have fucking study hall man, but guess fuckin’ what, I have geometry with a psychopath.”

“Not sure if you’re (yawn) talking about Hines, or Aran DIa.” You joked, and he smirked, pulling you up by the back of your sweater. 

“Hurry up man. You should come with us after school, though. We can stop by that dipshit little bakery afterwards.” He offered, grinning as he walked you along to the door and into the hall.

“The place with those fucking orgasm worthy cream horns? Oh god I remember when we got some of those and that warm chocolate fucking pudding.” You were in heaven at the very idea, and you felt like a pushover. “Fuck yes I’ll go. But if I see any fucking ghosts, I’m going to piss on your shoes on the way out the door.”

“Sounds good to me,” Dave joked as he broke off from your path to head for a door. “A’ight, just meet me by my car, man. Seeya, Squarepants.” He gave a little salute, and your rolled your eyes.

“Aye aye Captain,” you retort and flip him the bird on your way to study hall. 

___________________________________________________________

The rest of the day drags, like it always does. You spend the study hall messaging Erin and listening to him complain. If you have to hear “kar she likes my brother” or “fuckin dickwweed little ravenous whore mongler” or _fucking_ “ I CANT FUCKIN BELIEVVE ANY OF THOSE SORRY GOOD FOR NOTHIN ASSHOLES KAR THEY DONT UNDERSTAND” one more goddamn, you’re going to wring the little fuck-stick’s neck. 

English isn’t much fun either, and Ms. Kinnamon is in a bad mood, so you’re stuck reading bits and pieces of Macbeth and trying to translate them the entire period. Also bloody fucking annotating, which you’re about ninety-nine percent sure Lucifer created in his free time.

When the bell finally rings, you’re so fucking relieved that you nearly walk out of class without any of your belongings. You’re just so _sick_ of being there. Though flustered, you go back and gather your shit together, before making another bolt to the door. Ms. Kinnamon calls after you when you a) don’t close her door, and b) don’t say goodbye as you’re leaving class, but she doesn’t pursue so you just keep on going.

It doesn't take you long to get out to Dave’s car, settling into the warm back seat and listening to Terri go on and on about some singer on the radio and it takes you a while to realize she’s talking to you.

“ _Karkles_ , I’m speaking English. I’m pretty sure. Dave, am I speaking English?” She turned, smacking Dave’s arm as he watched out his window, searching the crowd of Aran Dia.

“Hush up, babe. Can’t understand a word you’re saying.” He joked, grinning wide and relaxing when Aran Dia broke the crowd and made her way into the back seat. “Hey, hope you two don’t mind, but Pyralsprite is probably gonna be chillin’ back there with y’all.”

“Who the fuck is that?” You arch a brow, and Terri turned to ‘look’ at you, readjusting in her seat as Dave pulled out of the parking lot.

“He’s my Seeing Eye-Dog, and he’s gonna love you Karkles. He likes sarcastic buttheads. I would know this, on the account that I am indeed, a sarcastic butthead.”

“It better not fucking pee on me. If it pees on me, I’m jumping out the window.”

“Do it!” Aran Dia grinned wide, almost sounding eager. “You might roll down the road!!”

Terri was having a cackling fit, sinking into her seat and snickering like a psychopath. It was fucking stupid, but it was so adorable that it made you stare. You felt weird, once again ogling your best friend’s girlfriend while another, and self-proclaimed, psychopath sat by, watching.

The drive isn’t too bad. Dave plays his dumb mix-tapes and bobs his head to the music and Terri rambles on and on about some episode of Judge Judy they were playing last night, and Aran Dia just smiles out her window and if she wasn’t so fucking creepy, she’d be pretty.

You almost forgot about the stop at Dave’s, so you sit in the car with Aran Dia while Dave and Terri run into to get Pyralsprite. It’s an awkward ten minutes, but you two find peace in talking about Salem for a little while. He’s a shitsponge, but he’s one of your best friends so you put up with him. Sometimes you think that guy actually hates himself more than you hate yourself. Impressive.

When Dave opens your door, you’re a bit shocked, but you’re even more shocked when the big white lab jumped up in your lap and crawled into the middle, before taking a double take and covering your face in slobber. Fucking disgusting.

“Augh,” you say aloud and push him off of you, and he rests on the car seat with his head in your lap. You hate dogs. You’re such a cat person that this almost physically pains you.

The bakery is about forty-five minutes from the school, and you spend a good portion of that checking your phone over and over again. Nothing from Gavin, nothing at all. You let off another torrent of messages.

CG: WHERE THE ACTUAL FUCK ARE YOU??   
CG: YOU ARE LITERALLY THE BIGGEST FUCKWIT I HAVE EVER MET OH MY GOD.   
CG: I NEEDED YOU FOR MATH TODAY.   
CG: THANKS FOR BORROWING MY NOTES YOU FUCK.   
CG: I BET YOU’RE SLEEPING RIGHT NOW.   
CG: OR HIGH.   
CG: OR MAYBE *BOTH*.   
CG: I HAVE BEEN UPSET ALL DAY AND I TOLD YOU NOT TO MISS THE BUS THIS MORNING.   
CG: DO YOU EVER LISTEN TO ME?   
CG: SOMETIMES I THINK IT GOES IN ONE YEAR AND OUT THE OTHER.   
CG: YOU BETTER SHOW UP TOMORROW AND EXPLAIN TO MRS. MALCOLM THAT IT’S YOUR FAULT OUR PROJECT DIDN’T GET DONE.   
CG: ALSO.   
CG: DON’T COME TO SCHOOL HIGH.   
CG: BECAUSE I NEED TO YELL AT YOU.   
CG: AND YOU DON’T TAKE ME SERIOUSLY WHEN YOU’RE HIGH.   
CG: WHICH IS ALMOST ALL THE FUCKING TIME.

After getting some anger out, you feel a little bit better, but still. He knew about this shit, he knew he had your notes and he knew you both had an important project due today that you both were behind on and just augh. You hate when he does these little things, because they’re what pisses you off more than anything. You just want your best friend to take you seriously and to take your relationship-- whatever the fuck is happens to be-- seriously, as well. 

Sinking into your seat, you’re so fucking happy when Dave pulls into the cutesy little parking lot of the bakery. The ground is covered in hop-scotch grids and chalk drawings, and flowers rim the little lot and there’s even a cute swinging bench that you and Gavin have sat on together once or twice. Inside, it smells like fresh baked bread and icing and chocolate, and you’re salivating. 

“Good afternoon!” The cute and busty girl behind the counter greets you, and you think she’s new, but her soft pink hair and snake bites make her stand out a bit in the bakery, but she radiates sweet air so you let it slide.

“‘Ey girly,” Dave grinned and glanced over at the display of sweets next to them. “I’m ordering for a group of about ten people, I think, so expect a lot. Okay so about twenty cream horns, give me about ten of those little cups of your hot chocolate pudding, two dozen chocolate chip cookies, and uh... Fuck it, throw in some peppermint bark as well.” He finally decided, still looking over the display case as she began loading up two or three boxes with your goodies. “Oh damn, give me a tray of the turtle fudge too. That shit is the bomb.”

“Dave, there’s a fuck ton of little kids here, Watch your mouth,” you warn, and he gives you a look before laughing and shaking his head. The girl wraps them all in tissue paper and puts them in their pretty white boxes with pink accenting and ties them up with some nice ribbons and rings Dave up, and he pulls out his dumb shiny piece of plastic credit card and all is well and you’re on your way. Dave lets Aran DIa hold the warm boxes in her lap, and you settle down and the dog makes himself comfortable on your lap. You sigh, and look to her and tell her she better check for spoons. After realizing you had no spoons, or napkins, you throw a fit until Dave gets out and runs back into the bakery. When he returns, you get a handful of plastic spoons plucked at you, but you don’t mind too much.

Soon enough, you’re dipping a delicious cream horn in warm chocolate pudding and all is fucking fruity in Karter-land. Your mouth is trembling in the glory and your elbows are holding down the dog’s face, so he doesn’t try to steal your food. Fuck him. This is your food.

When you stop again, you’re a little confused but not much. It’s a Food Lion, and Dave is the only one who gets out of the car, so nothing matters to you. You eat your pudding and your cream horn and you eat a fucking cookie and take some goddamn peppermint bark and Terri is once again laughing and stuffing her face as well. At one point, your hands touch when you both reach for the same cookie, and it would be romantic if she hadn’t grabbed your hand and promptly pushed it away and stolen the box of cookies.

Dave returns after a couple of minutes, holding some cleaning supplies and unloading all of it into the trunk. Once that was done, you all were heading off back down the road. The area got thinner, houses more dispersed and soon enough there was nothing but the one gas station you all passed. Coming up on a big grouping of trees, they blocked out the sunlight and make the road seemingly darker. It’s a good ten minutes of nothing but trees, as Dave crept along the road. The road was bumpy, and far too windy for your liking. It was narrow as well, and if someone were to come around the corner, you’d all probably collide.

Finally he found his destination, a gross little dirt past that seemed almost invisible on the side of the road until Dave carefully turned down it. He was creeping past the first couple trees, before picking up a little bit of speed and taking each turn carefully. This was a nice paint job, and there was no fucking way he was ruining it, obviously. What a pretentious prick.

It’s another ten minutes or so, and you’re starting to think this dumb house doesn’t even exist. You pass over a bubbling brook, the car splashing over the little rocky path and you almost can hear Dave wince. Terri looks fascinated, listening to everything that was happening around her. She had her eyes closed, just taking in all the sounds and it was sort of adorable.

Finally, Dave found a break in the trees and drove down an ancient little rocky driveway, which lead to this large old house. It stood a good three stories tall, with arched windows and old flower boxes in each. Dark stones made up the sides, seeming infinite as they climbed along the sides of the building. The dark wood made up a sort of porch that went around the entire house, filled with old chairs that were rain damaged and rusted metal wind chimes that swayed in the wind. The grass was overgrown, along with the weeds, but the house looked like it was sturdy. It was also most likely definitely haunted and there was no fucking way you were going in there.

Except there went Aran Dia, already out the door and on her way down the cobblestone path to the front door. And she had the fucking bakery boxes in her hand. Your fucking cream horns were on the move, and you damn fucking sure followed them.

Dave was behind you now, Pyralsprite dragging Terri along the path, and Aran Dia jiggled the handle. After it didn’t open, she turned to Dave.

“Uh, let me find something in my car. Maybe I can pick it.” He said, turning to move, when the door creaked and slowly slid open.

“Fuck no,” you state thickly and open your arms. “Aran Dia, give me the cream horns. You are not giving them as sacrificial offerings to the ghosts. They can have the dog.”

“If you try to give them my dog,” Terri started, turning to glare slightly right of your head, “I will lock you in this house with them.”

A shiver went down your spine, and you went quiet, gawking after Aran Dia as she rushed inside. How could be be so goddamn excited? You watched Dave follow her, and then Pyralsprite and Terri and suddenly you were alone. 

Sucking up what little bit of courage your tiny body could hold, you waddled in hurriedly after them and catch up. The place is huge on the inside, with old plastic coverings on all the furniture. Dust was everywhere, and it was beyond gross, and you were sure you saw at least one rat. The place looked like it hadn’t been used since the 1920’s or so, and considering the decor it seemed fitting.

“Something straight out of the era of flappers and jazz music,” Aran Dia muttered as she pulled a tarp off of a dusty couch.

“Dude, did they even have power in the 1920’s?" Dave inquired, arching a brow as he looked around for a light switch.

“Dave, you fuckward, it was the 1920’s, not the 1820’s, so yeah they had power.” You grumble, rolling your eyes. How did he even pass history class?

He located a light switch, flickering it up and down a couple times. “If they did, then why the fuck don’t the lights works?” He turned to you, and you would’ve smacked him if your hands weren’t holding precious, precious goodies.

“Well, from the looks of it,” you say as you over-dramatically take a look around, “the bill hasn’t been paid in like, forty plus years.”

Dave scoffed, sighing and looking around. “Wait, where the fuck did TZ go?” You also turned to look around, but alas, her and her dumbshit dog were nowhere in sight. “Fuck, I lost my blind girlfriend. It’s only been like a week, fuck.” He muttered as he went searching, and you realized Aran Dia was setting up some kind of ouija board on the floor. 

“Nope,” you muttered quickly and hurried after Dave. “Nope, nope, nope, N TO THE O TO THE P TO THE FUCKING E.” You find yourself alone once again, in what happens to look a lot like a kitchen. There’s a wood stove in the corner on a little stone slab, with pokers and a rotted pile of firewood taking up residence beside it. The counters were stone and long, and the sink looked rusted and ancient. You set down the bakery boxes on the counter, wondering where the fuck Dave’s friends were. They were supposed to be here and helping. Instead, Terri is lost, Dave is running around, and Aran Dia is trying to fucking summon satan. 

You decide that another cream horn is necessary, because you’re stressed as fuck. Sitting up on the counter, which took more work to do than you’d like to admit, you munch down on the crunchy flakes and savor the sugary cream as it touched your tongue. Pulling out your phone, you had one message. Your hopes obviously jumped, but you were sorely disappointed to open it and see it was from your brother.

IA: Karter, where did y9u g9?

Oh fuck, your brother was supposed to pick you up. Well shit, you’re an asshole.

CG: OH GOD I’M SO SORRY.   
CG: I WENT HOME WITH DAVE.   
CG: I’M ALIVE DON’T FREAK MOM OUT.   
IA: KARTER M9M WAS ALREADY FREAKED 9UT WHEN I DIDN’T 6RING Y9U H9ME.   
CG: YOUR USE OF CAPS LOCK IS TRIGGERING ME.   
IA: I ap9l9gize.   
IA: Except I d9n’t.   
IA: What were y9u thinking?   
CG: I WAS THINKING I WAS GONNA GO HOME WITH DAVE AND FORGET YOU EXIST.   
CG: WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK I WAS THINKING???   
CG: I FORGOT.   
CG: HOLY SHIT I’M ONLY HUMAN.   
IA: It’s a sh9cker.   
IA: N9rmally, y9u’d 6e giving y9urself a harder time than I w9uld be.   
CG: WOW, FUCK YOU.   
CG: THERE ARE TWO BIRDS FLIPPED UP, RIGHT IN YOUR DIRECTION.   
IA: I’m g9ing t9 inf9rm m9m that y9u’re alive.   
IA: I’m d9ne talking t9 y9u f9r n9w.

You shove your phone in your pocket, shaking your head and angrily munching on the cream horn. Fuck him. Fuck him for bringing up the way you beat yourself up for dumb shit and fuck him in general. You are so sick of your family that it’s ridiculous.

**Dave:**

The floorboards creak under your every footstep as you climb the stairs. “Babe?” You call out, finding yourself in a long, dusty hallway. Your feet were leaving prints in that dust, but so were her’s and the dog. You followed them, approaching a turn in the hall and spotting a window on the wall. 

You find the lock, undoing it and heaving your weight up against the window. It was sticky, but slowly it budged and you wormed it open. Good, maybe some fresh air will blow this fucking dust away and air the murky place out a little. 

Following the footsteps some more, you walked down the hall quietly, eyes trailing along the wood patterned walls. The floors were hard wood, yet old. You wondered if this place was even safe to be in. Oh well, you hadn’t died yet, so hopefully that was a good thing.

Terri’s footsteps led into a room, and you wiggled the doorknob until it opened. It was a large bedroom, with peach colored walls and wood trim. The floor was covered in ancient, expensive looking carpets, and a small chandelier hung from the ceiling. Terri, who was sneezing, sat on the dusty bed cover, shooting some snot rockets into her elbow crease again. She ‘looked’ up at you, arching a brow.

“Dave?”

“Nah,” you joke as you approach her, patting Pyralsprite’s head and plopping down next to her. “I’m a ghost. You’re on the bed I used to have orgies on.”

“Damn.” She commented, patting the plastic cover with her hand. “It’s comfortable. I can see why it was chosen for orgies.”

“It’s even better without this dumbshit plastic on it.” You comment, getting up and helping her aside, carefully pulling the tarp off and bundling it up and setting it in the corner, where it couldn’t spread it’s horrid dust. It’s hard work, and you swear you break a sweat, but you manage to get the window in that room to open as well. 

Heading back to the bed, you plop down and the comforter in place is nice, handmade you think. Laying back, Terri plops down, half landing on you. You cough and grunt, and she falls back to lay next to you. It’s nice, and you roll yourself over so you’re hovering over her. Bumping noses, your lips touch and it’s sweet. She tastes like sugar, and you let yourself get lost in the kiss for a while. Her fingers knot in your hand and run up and down your back, and it’s fun to play with her tongue a bit. She has no idea what she’s doing, you think, but it makes for an interesting kiss. Laughing quietly into her mouth, you slowly roll the two of you over and she happily rests her butt against your stomach and kisses you back. It doesn’t seem sexy to you, though. It’s fun, it’s sparky and creative and sloppy and it makes you want to keep her on top of you forever, but you have no interest in taking it any farther. You wanted her like this forever, dumb baggy shorts and rainbow socks and t-shirt and snotty nose and giggling. All of it was so fucking her that it almost made your innards melt. It was a weird feeling, but you rolled with it and waited for her to pull away. 

When she finally did, she was giggling and wiped her nose on her arm and plopped down next to you, patting her stomach. Pyralsprite hopped on up, laying across her flat tummy and resting his face on your’s.

“That was fun,” you comment and she grins and nods, her messy hair flopping a bit and rubbing up against the pillow. You were tempted to touch her, but the static electricity would probably shock you. Besides, she looked so lazy and happy there, just grinning and eyes closed, and Pyralsprite’s panting wasn’t exactly helping the mood.

“We’re never gonna finish cleaning this place,” you comment and finally wiggle an arm under her, relaxing. “It’s huge.”

“Where are your friends or whatever?” She asked, adjusting her body over your arm and sighing, relaxing against the soft mattress. 

“Dunno, they’re assholes.” You comment and scoot closer, relaxing.

It’s a while before the two of you finally peel yourselves out of the bed, making it a mission to go into every single room in the house and remove and ball up the dusty tarps and open each and every window. There’s no running water, but you decide that you don’t mind too much. There’s also a really old timey hang line in the back and wash basin, so you let Terri have at it and scrub the blankets until they were semi-fresh, and then Aran Dia hung them, before returning to her spot on the back patio, moving around a little arrow pointer on a board full of letters.

Karter finally joined the rest of you, and you assigned him to wiping off surfaces, giving him a few packs of paper towels and the bottle of _Windex_. You started mopping the hallway upstairs, and some of the rooms, trying to get some of that dust up and off the floor. It wasn’t a fun task, and it involved a lot of groaning, but soon enough the floor looked half decent. 

It was getting darker and darker though, and now the sun was setting, and with no power in the house, it was becoming more and more of a struggle to see. Finally, the lot of you loaded all of your stuff up in the car, leaving the blankets to dry, and Aran Dia smiling wide.

“Any ghosts?” You ask her, and she nods.

“She won’t tell me her name, but she says the house was originally built during the slave days. She was slave to a rich lumberjack here, who cut down much of this forest. The house went through his family, until apparently the youngest heir died off and it has sat here unattended for years.”

“Huh,” you raise an eyebrow and sit in the front seat as Karter wobbles his way over to the car. When he was finally in, you pulled into the road and started your way down the dirty path. “We need to get lights or something to put along these trees so people don’t get lost.”

“Don’t they make like, glow-in-the-dark paint?” Aran Dia suggested, leaning up against the back of Terri’s seat to look at you. “That would probably do a good job.”

“Yeah, but I also don’t want anything visible from the main road. If police or something sees it, we’re screwed.” You sigh, creeping along the path and straining your eyes to see along the now dark path. Your high-beams were on and everything, and it was still a hassle.

After a couple minutes of struggling, you finally found the main road and made the transition from rocky dirty to smooth asphalt. Sighing happily, you cruised down the main road and relaxed back in your seat. The radio played queitly, playing some top 100 hits of the week or whatever, but you recognized Nicki Minaj’s voice and muttered along to the parts you knew. 

The moon was overhead now, and everyone was quiet, tired. Terri seemed to be fast asleep, and it looked like Pyralsprite had gotten the same idea. Karter was messing around with the packaging of the pastry boxes in the backseat, and Aran Dia was humming a sad tune and kicking her feet excitedly like a child. All was well in Dave Strider land, and you passed the gas station and the tiny houses and the long road and took your time getting back to town, when you suddenly felt hand grip your shoulder tightly. 

“Fuck, what?” You nearly jumped out of your skin, glancing back to see Karter, one hand on you and wide eyes on his phone. “Did Gavin finally text you back?”

“Take me to the hospital.”

“What?”

“I said, take me to the fucking hospital!” He belted again and you have to take a second to calibrate, before you finally made a turn right and headed down a long strip of road.

“What happened?”

“I don’t fucking know, okay.” Karter said, and he sounded choked up now. “He finally fucking replied and he said his mom is in the hospital and it’s bad and fuck I was so angry at him Dave. I’m _horrible_.”

Oh no, he was doing the blubbering thing and you couldn’t stand the blubbering thing. It hurt to hear and it made you want to stop and hug him, but you were sure he’d yell at you. “Man, calm down. We all overreact over dumb shit, it happens.”

“Fuck, fuck,” he wiped at his eyes and sniffled loudly in the back seat, and you were happy Terri was asleep. You knew Karter wouldn’t want her to hear this. 

The road seemed too long, and the car seemed too slow, but finally you pulled into the brightly lit parking lot of the hospital, stopping the car quickly and unbuckling. Karter was fighting with his seatbelt for a moment, before finally opening the door.

“Huh?” Terri mumbled, sitting up a bit and rubbing her eyes. “Are we home?”

“No babe, just, Aran Dia will explain.” You said, before quickly closing the door and hurrying after a panicked looking Karter.

**Gavin:**

You watched the nurse closely, as she settled your mom in the new room. “She’s stable now,” she had told you, “everything’s gonna be okay,” she had said. You wanted to believe her.

You turned your cracked up iPod over and over again in your palms, happy that you had finally been moved to a part of the hospital with wifi. Karter never replied, and you don’t know what to expect. He hates you, you think. He has always hated you but he needs you and that’s why he stays. And you don’t think you could ever hate him, but you don’t want to ever seen him go. You don’t know what you’d do if you didn’t have him.

“She’s going to be fine,” the nurse turns to tell you after your start sniffling and you just nod. She’s not going to be fine.

There was a loud knock at the door, and the nurse simply said ‘come in’. Pushing the door aside, Karter was clinging to your side instantly and Dave was standing in the doorway, looking awkward. 

“I’m so fucking sorry,” Karter started as he buried his snotty nose into your jacket. “I’m so fucking terrible, I shouldn’t make assumptions oh god are you okay??” He choked, continuing and you sigh, wrapping your long arms around him and relaxing. He was so warm, and even if he was a sobbing asshole, he was your sobbing asshole and you loved him so much.

“Uh,” Dave started, before sighing and rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry ‘bout your mom, bro..” He trailed off, and you nodded to him. “Karter, do you want me to like, drop them off and come back for you?”

Karter simply nodded, and since Dave couldn’t see that between all the snuggling and tears, you nod again for him and Dave takes his leave.

It takes a long couple of minutes for Karter to finally calm down, and he pulled you down to kiss you all over your face and it’s sweet and you need it.

“How is she?” He finally asks, turning to look at her. 

“She’s done up and had the nastiest fuckin’ fever you ever done felt, Karter,” you start and you find the lump in your throat horribly overwhelming. “She can’t stop coughin’.”

“What about now?” He eyed her monitors, wiping away his tears. “They look good.”

“She’s stable.”

“Well,” he coughed and it made you flinch, before he sniffed and looked up at you. “That’s a good thing, right?”

“Yeah, it is.” You agree, burying your face in his hair. “It ain’t _enough_ , though.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im a fucking evil being i hope you didnt think this story was a laughing matter

**Author's Note:**

> you can follow me on tumblr at http://imputtingyouonspeakercrab.tumblr.com/  
> i also will be tracking the tags tlofam and the land of faygo and misfits  
> i originally wanted to tag all of this as lofam but thats the land of fans and music and i don't want to spam that tag with fanfic stuff.


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